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CHIEF BRITISH POETS OF THE FOURTEENTH 
AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES 



^\)t Cljief ^ott$ ^me0 



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THE CHIEF ELIZABETHAN DRAMATISTS. Ex- 
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THE CHIEF BRITISH POETS OF THE FOLTl- 
TEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTLTIIES. Edited 
with explanatory and biographical notes by William Allan 
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HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

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CHIEF BRITISH POETS 

OF THE FOUKTEENTH AND 
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EDITED WITH EXPLANATORY 

AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

BY 

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Professor of English 
y ,' AND 

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Harvard University 




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COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY W. A. NEILSON AND K. G. T. WEBSTER 
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4vi 

MAR 27 I91-5 l 



©be 3Ribc«{ftie Jj^vm 

CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U.S.A. 



CI.A428275 



n. 



PREFACE 

The aim in the present volume, as in the other issues of the series, has been, not to com- 
pile a mediaeval anthology of choice poems and passages, but to represent fully and where 
possible by complete works, all the chief poets of the period covered. The selections have 
been made and the apparatus furnished with a view to arousing the interest and satisfy- 
ing the curiosity of the general reader and the student of literature rather than of lan- 
guage. Care has indeed been taken to provide trustworthy texts, and the book should 
not be without value to those seeking to extend their knowledge of Middle English and 
Middle Scots ; but the glosses supplied in the footnotes are full enough to make possible 
the enjoyment of the poems by readers without special acquaintance with the earlier stages 
of the language. In the case of some of the more difficult of the alliterative poems. Sir 
Gawain and the Green Knight, The Pearl, and Piers Plowman, the amount of glossary 
required was so great that it seemed that our purpose would be better served by a literal 
translation than by footnotes so numerous as to make continuous reading all but impos- 
sible. Precisely how faithful these renderings are, the reader can judge for himself by 
comparing the translations with the specimens of the originals printed at the beginning 
of the two first-named poems. 

No apology need be made for including a generous selection from the traditional bal- 
lads. Their authors, if they had authors in the strict sense, are indeed not among the 
" Chief Poets," nor are they all by any means to be assigned to the two centuries with 
which we are here concerned ; but in a series which, it is hoped, will cover the whole field 
of English poetry, it would be preposterous to neglect a type which is one of its glories ; 
and, in point of chronology, the ballads fit this volume as well as any. They belong to the 
folk, and the taste of the folk has little relation to the conventional periods into which 
literary history is divided. 

A notable feature of the collection is the prominence given to the Scottish poets of the 
period. Partly on account of the political separation of England and Scotland, partly 
through an exaggerated sense of the difficulty of the dialect, students of English literature 
have unduly neglected these writers. Yet after a few peculiarities in spelling have been 
noted, Barbour, for example, is as easy as Chaucer ; and in the matter of poetic quality 
none of Chaucer's English disciples is the equal of Henryson or Dunbar. The latter, it is 
true, is often mentioned if seldom read ; but it is doubtful whether there is in the whole 
of English literature a case of neglected genius so remarkable as that of Henryson. This 
book will justify itself if it does no more than make accessible and call attention to poetry 
of so much interest and distinction. 

In the choice of poets and poems to be included we have been greatly aided by many 
of our colleagues in the universities of the United States, — so many that only a general 
acknowledgment can be made of the obligations under which their generosity has placed 
us. For the final decisions, as well as for whatever faults in judgment and scholarship the 
book may contain, the editors are jointly responsible. Mr. Webster translated the Gawain 
and the Pearl, Mr. Neilson Piers Plowman, but each has had the opportunity to revise 
and criticize, so that the credit or discredit must be shared in common. 

W. A. N. 

K. G. T. W. 

' Cambridge, 1916. 



I* 

A. 



CONTENTS 

ROBERT MANNING OF BRUNNE 

Handling Sin 1 

Witchcraft and Dreams 1 

The Tale of the Witch and her Cow-Sucking Bag 2 

The Tale of the Sacrilegious Carollers 3 

THE PEARL 6 

SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 19 

Fytte the First 21 

Fytte the Second 26 

Fytte the Third 32 

Fytte the Fourth 42 

WILLIAM LANGLAND (?) 

The Vision of William concerning Piers the Ploughman 48 

JOHN GOWER 

Confessio Amantis 79 

The Tale of Florent 79 

The Tale of Albinus and Rosemund 83 

The Tale of Constantine and Silvester 85 

The Tale of Rosiphelee . 88 

The Tale of Ceyx and Alceone 90 

The Tale of Adrian and Bardus 92 

GEOFFREY CHAUCER 

The Canterbury Tales 95 

The Prologue 95 

The Knight's Tale 106 

The Prioresses Tale 131 

Prologue to Sir Thopas 133 

SirThopas 134 

The Nonne Preestes Tale 136 

The Prologue of the Pardoners Tale 143 

The Pardoners Tale 145 

The Tale of the Wyf of Bathe 151 

The Romaunt of the Rose 156 

The Parlement of Foules 160 

The Proem 160 

The Story 161 

Troilus and Criseyde 169 



viii COxXTENTS 



The Legend of Good Women 184 

Prologue .-A. 181 

The Legend of Cleopatra 190 

The Legend of Lucretia 191 

Minor Poems 195 

Chancers Wordes unto Adam, his owne Scriveyn 195 

The Former Age 195 

Merciles Beaute: A Triple Roundel 196 

Truth 196 

Gentilesse 197 

Lak of Stedfastnesse 197 

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan 197 

The Compleint of Chaucer to his Empty Purse 198 

THOMAS HOCCLEVE 

The Regement of Princes 199 

Extravagance in Men's Dress 199 

Badby's Heresy 200 

Woman's Superiority 201 

Tributes to Chaucer and Gower . 202 

Roundel to Somer the Chancellor 204 

Balade to my Gracious Lord of York 204 

The Complaint 205 

Hoccleve's Gat Youth 206 

JOHN LYDGATE 

The Churl and the Bird 208 

The Temple of Glas 213 

New Troy 216 

Bycorne and Chichevache 220 

A Dietary 221 

On Women's Horns 222 

Lydgate's Mumming at Hertford 223 

The Legend of Dan Joos 227 

JOHN SKELTON 

Philip Sparrow 230 

The Tunning of Eleanor Rumming 238 

Colin Clout 241 

Garland of Laurel 247 

. Lullaby 248 

STEPHEN HAWES 

The Pastime of Pleasure 249 

The Excusation of the Auctour 255 



CONTENTS ix 



BALLADS 

Lady Isabel and the EiIf-Knight 256 

The Douglas Tragedy . 256 

The Twa Sisters 257- 

The Cruel Brother 258 

Edward 259 

Babylon; or, the Bonnie Banks o Fordie 260 

Hind Horn 261 

King Orfeo 262 

St. Stephen and Herod 262 

Judas 263 

The Three Ravens 264 

The Twa Corbies 264* 

King Henry 264 

Kemp Owyne 265 

The Laily Worm and the Machrel of the Sea 266 

Thomas Rymer and the Queen of Elfland 267 

The Wee Wee Man 268 

Tam Lin 268 

Young Akin or Hind Etin 270 

Clerk Colvill 273 

King John and the Bishop 274 

Young Bicham 277 

The Cherry-Tree Carol 278 

Sir Patrick Spence 278 

King Estmere 279 

Fair Annie 283 

Child Waters 284 

Lady Maisry 286 

Glasgerion 288 

Clerk Saunders 289 

Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 290 

Love Gregor 292 

Sweet William's Ghost 293 

The Wife of Usher's Well 294 

Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard 294 

Bonny Barbara Allan 296 

Lamkin 296 

Young Waters 298 

The Maid freed from the Gallows 298 

The Gay Goss-Hawk 299 

The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington 301 



CONTENTS 



The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry 301 

JoHNiE Cock 302 

Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborxe 303 

Robin Hood's Death and Burial , . . 306 

Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's Three So.ns 307 

Hugh of Lincoln 309 

The Battle of Otterburn 309 

Che\'y Chase 311 

JoHNiE Armstrong 314 

Mary Hamilton 315 

Captain Car 316 

The Bonny Earl of Murray 318 

KiNMONT Willie 318 

The Bontsie House o Airlie 321 

The Baron of Brackley 321 

Bonnie George Campbell 323 

Bewick and Graham 324 

The Dowy Houms o Yarrow 327 

The DiEMON Lover 328 

Our Goodman 328 

Get up and Bar the Door 330 

The Wife wrapt in W^ether's Skin 330 

The Bitter Withy 331 

JOHN BARBOUR 

The Bruce . 332 

Introduction 332 

How Scotland learned to love Liberty 332 

How the King read Ferumbras 333 

The Battle of Bannockburn 334 

* BLIND HARRY' 

The Wallace 340 

The Fishing Adventure 340 

Wallace and the English Queen 341 

Lament for Wallace's Capture 345 

The Death of Wallace 345 

JAMES I OF SCOTS 

The King's Quair 347 

Good Counsel 366 

ROBERT HENRYSON 

The Testament of Cresseid 367 

The Fox, the W' olf, and the Cadger 375 



CONTEXTS xi 



The Tale of the Uplandish Mouse and the Burgess Mouse 380 

Robin and Makin . 383 

The Garment of Good Ladies 384 

WILLIAM DUNBAR 
The Golden Targe 386 

The Thistle and the Rose 390 

Lament for the Makers 392 

The Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins 394 

The Petition of the Gray Horse, Old Duxbar 395 

The Dregy of Dunbar made to King James the Fifth being in Stirling . . 396 

The Ballad of Kind Kittok 397 

How Dunbar wes desired to be a Frl\r 398 

A New Year's Gift to the King 399 

GA\TN DOUGLAS 

Translation of the ^neid 400 

Prologue . . . , 400 

Death of Priam 401 

Morning in May 402 

King Hart 406 

Honour 408 

SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 

The Dream 409 

Complaynt of the Commounweill of Scotland 409 

The Testament and Complaint of our Sovereign Lord's Papingc 411 

Kitty's Confession 419 

The Testament of Squire Meldrum 421 

BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 423 

INDEX 437 



CHIEF BRITISH POETS OF THE FOURTEENTH 
AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES 



a 



ROBERT MANNING OF BRUNNE 



WITCHCRAFT AND DREAMS 

{Handling Sin, U. 339-556) 

Gyf thou ever thurgh folye 

Dydyst ought ^ do nygromauncy, 

Or to the devyl dedyst sacryfyse 

Thurgh wychcraftys asyse,^ 

Or any man gaf the mede ^ 

For to reyse the devyl ^ yn dede, 

For to telle, or for to wrey ^ 

Thyng that the was don awey ; 

Gyf thou have do any of thys, 

Thou hast synned and do a-mys, 10 

And thou art wurthy to be shent ^ 

Thurgh thys yche' commaundement. 

Gyf thou yn swerd, other yn bacyn, 
Any ehylde madyst loke theryu, 
Or yn thumbe,^ or yn cristal, — 
Wycchecraft men clepyn ^ hyt al. 
Beleve nought yn the pyys ^° cheteryng ; 
Hyt ys no trouthe, but fals belevyng. 
Many belevyn yn the pye: 
Whan she comyth lowe or hye 20 

Cheteryng, and hath no reste, 
Than sey they we shul have geste." 
Many on 12 trowyn^^ on here wylys, 
And many tymes the pye hem gylys.^* 

Also ys metyng on the morwe 
When thou shalt go to bje or to borwe; 
Gyf than thy erende spede ne sette, 
Than wylt thou curse hym that thou mette. 
Hyt ys the tycement of the devyl 
To curse hem that thoght the no evyl. 30 

Of hancel ^^ y can no skylle^^ also; 
Hyt ys nought to beleve tharto: 
Me thynketh hyt ys fals every deyl, 
Y beleve hyt nought, ne never shal weyl.^'^ 
For many havyn glad hancel at the morw, 
And to hem or evyn comth moehyl sorw; 
And manyou havyn yn the day grete noy,!^ 
And yy t or evyn cometh to hem moehyl ioye. 

1 at all. 2 mode. s hire. * Call him up — the 
origin of our colloquial phrase. 5 hide. « punished. 
^ very. 8 One divined by the white flecks on the 

thumb-nail. » call. 10 magpie's. " doings — 
or possibly, a guest. 12 Many a one. ^^ believe. 

11 deceives. 1= prognostication. is I know no 

good of it. 17 well. 18 annoyance. 



So mayst thou wyte, gyf thou gode can,^^ 
That hancel ys no beleve to man. 40 

Beleve nought moche yn no dremys, 
For many be nat but gleteryng glemys. 
These clerkys seyn that hyt ys vanyte, 
That nought ys, ne never shal be; 
And ofte mayst thou fynde hyt ryght 
That thou hast mete 20 upon the nyght. 
But therof to have moehyl affyaunce 
The may betyde the sunner a chaunce. 

On syxe mauers may a man mete: 
Sum beyn to beleve, sum beyn to lete.^^ 50 
Sum men dremyn for surfetiu-e, 
That etyn or drynkyn over mesure; 
And sum dreme on veyn thyng 
For over mychyl and grete fastyng; 
And sum beyn the fendes temptacyoun 
That to the trowthe ys fals tresoun ; 
And sum come of over moehyl thought 
Of thyng that men wuld have wrought; 
And sum beyn Goddys pryvyte 
That he shewyth to warne the ; 60 

And, sum come thurgh grete stody, 
And shewe to the apertly.^^ 
These syxe maners a clerk us tellyth, 
Seynt Gregory, that moehyl spellyth.^^ 

The f yrst twey ^^ maners, we wote weyl, 
Beyn oure defaute every deyl. 
The ton 2^ ys for over mychel outrage, 
The touther ys febylnesse of corage,^^ 
As yn mete, or drynk, over moche takyng, 
Or yn f eblyng the body with moche fastyng. 
The touther foure thys clerkys wytyn, 71 
For yn the byble they ben wrytyn. 
Gyf they ne come thurgh temptacyun 
Of the fende, that ys a felun, 
Nevere had seyd Salamon 
' That dremys men deseyve ^^ manyon.' 
Fortho that to dremys over moche trastySj^^^ 
To scorne hem the fende then frastys.^ 

Gyf they come nat also thurgh thoght, 
The wyse clerk hadde tolde hyt noght, 80 
Ne suffryd hyt be wrytyn }ti boke 
That men alle day rede yn, and loke, 

" understand. 20 dreamt. 21 neglect. 22 openly. 
23 relates. 24 two. 25 The one. 28 epirit. 2' deceive. 
28 trust. 29 tries. 



ROBERT MANNING OF BRUNNE 



Thus the wyse clerk seyth, Catun, 
And teehyth chyldryn thys lessuu, 

* Geve no charge to (thy) dremys, 
They been but as (glasyng) glemys 
That yn the thought (stertys &) lepys 
A-nyght whan thou (restys &) slepys: 
That you wakyng (sunityme) thenkes, 
Before thy ygen hyt blenkys.' ^ 90 

Gyf they ne come thurgh pryvyte 
That God wyl shewe me or the, 
losep of dremys had gyve no kepe ^ 
What hym was shewed yn hys slepe, 
That fadyr and modyr and al hys kynde, 
Thurgh hym shuld they wurshyp fyude. 
Yn the byble men rede thys 
In the fyrst boke of Genesys. 
Also hyt was shewyd pryvyly 
To losep that wedded oure lady, 100 

That with the chyld they shulde fle 
To Egypt, that yche cuntre. 
Thys ys clepyd revelacyun, 
To shewe byfore what ys to doun. 

Gyf they com noght thurgh stodyyng, 
That tokene ys of selkouthe ^ thyng, 
Danyel had noght wyst byfore 
The dreme of Nabugodonosore. 
Danyel seyd un-to the kyng, 
"Thou thougtyst to nyght a selkouthe 
thyng; no 

What manere folk shuld they be 
That yn this worlde come aityr the. 
And how they shulde the wurlde governe; 
Yn thy thoght thou gunne hyt gerne;^ 
And God shewyd hyt yn thy sygt; 
That dremed the the touther nyght." 
He tolde the profyte than every deyl; 
And the profete redde^ hyt weyl: 
Wysly he seyd, and weyl thurgh soght. 
Whan he hede^ toke to that the kynge thoght. 
And God shewyd what shuld betyde; 121 
What manere folk shulde af tyr a-byde. 

Sethyn ther beyn dremys so many man- 
ere,' 
Than ys doute and grete were ^ 
To wyte where-of dremys come, 
That every nyght dremyn thurgh custome; 
Ther beyn so many dremys yn veyne, 
That no man wote no certeyn 
But they that beyn with God pryve. 
To whom ys graunted, swych thyng to see: 
Swych men deseyveth nat the devyl, 131 
They have no grace to knowe hys evyl ; 

1 flashes before thine eyes. * heed. 8 strange. 

* began to yearn for it. s expounded. * heed. 
1 kinds. 8 vmcertainty. 



EUys may no man fynde hem stable, 
So ben dremys deseyvable. 
Gyf thou telle hem, than mayst thou erre; 
And gyf thow trow hem, that ys wel werre ; ^ 
For thou mayst dreme of sume evyl thyng 
That may turn to better for thy preyyug. 
" Thou, leudman,!'^ gyf gode tent,^^ 
Trow noght agen the comaundment." 140 

Gyf thou beleve yn wycchecraft 
To chaunge thyng be the devylys craft, — 
Swych beyn the devyl betaght,^^ 
With holy chyrche they ben unsaght,^^ 
And alle tho that on hem trowe 
Mow drede hem self to brenne yn lowe;^* 
And thogh they fyude hyt sothe other 

whyle,!^ 
Hyt ys thurgh the fendes gyle. 
The fend f ondyth ^^ with alle hys myght 
To put sumwat yn here syght 150 

That shal make hem swych thyng beleve 
And God almyghty myspay i' and greve. 
For ther was never womman ne man 
That any wycchecraft be-gan, 
That ever myght bryng hyt to an ende, 
But fals beleve that wyl hem shende. 
The wurdys certys beyn ryght noght, 
But fals beleve maketh dede y-wroght. 
For whan thou trowyst yn a fals thyng 
The devyl hyt shewyth for that trowyng. 
Lo here a tale of a wycche, 161 

That leved^s no better tha(n) a bycche. 



THE TALE OF THE WITCH AND 
HER COW-SUCKING BAG 

There was a wycche, and made a bagge, 
A bely ^^ of lethyr, a grete swagge,20 
She sygaldryd ^^ so thys bagge bely 
That hyt gede ^^ and soke ^3 mennys ky,^ 
At evene, and at morw tyde, 
Yn here pasture, other ellys be syde. 
Long hyt gede aboute fast, 
Tyl hyt was parceyved at the last; 
Than all the godemen of the toune, 
Byfore the by sshop dyden here somoune ; 10 
They dyden the bagge with here here, 
To wete '^ what she shuld answere. 
Hyt was shewyd byfore the bysshop, 
That she dyde ^6 to goo swych a melk 
slop,2" 

9 worse. 10 layman. 11 heed. 12 handed over to. 
13 unreconciled. 1^ bum in flame. is sometimes. 
16 strives. i^ displease. is believed. i9 bellows. 
20 bulky object. 21 enchanted. 22 went. 23 sucked, 
24 kine. ** know. 26 caused. 27 bag. 



THE TALE OF THE SACRILEGIOUS CAROLLERS 



Thurgh wycchecraft and mysaventure, 
To sugke here keyn yn here pasture. 
The bysshop merveyled, and other mo,i 
How that she myght do hyt go. 
" Dame," seyd the bysshop, " do thy quen- 

tyse,2 
And late us se how hyt shal ryse." 20 

Thys wycche here eharme began to sey, 
The slop ros up, and gede the weye. 
The bysshop seyd, " thys have we seyu; 
Do hyt now to lygge ^ ageyn," 
The wycche dede al at hys wylle: 
She made the slop agen lygge stylle. 
The bysshop made a clerk than wryte 
Al that she seyd, mochel and lyte, 
And alle how she made here went ; ^ 
The bysshop tharto gaf gode entent. 30 

" Thau," seyde the bysshop, " now shal y, 
As thou hast do, do thy maystry." ^ 
The bysshop began the eharme to rede, 
And as she dyde, he dyde yn dede; 
He seyd and dede every deyl, 
Ryght as she dede, he dede as weyl. 
The sloppe lay stylle, as hyt ded wore, 
For hym ne ros hyt never the more. 
" Why," seyd he, " wyl hyt nat ryse, 
And y have do the same wyse, 40 

And seyd the wurdys, lesse ne mo, 
And for my seyyng wyl hyt nat go ? " 
" Nay," she seyd, " why shuld hyt so ? 
Ye bele ve nat as y do : 
Wulde ye beleve my wnrdys as y, 
Hyt shulde a go, and sokun ky." 
He seyd, " than f aleth^ uoght but belevyng " ; 
She seyd, "that helpeth al my thyng; 
And so hyt ys for oure lawe, 
Beleve ys more than the sawe ; "^ 50 

For thou mayst sey what thou wylt, 
But thou beleve hyt, ellys ys alle spylt; 
Alle that y seyd, ye beleve hyt weyl. 
My beleve hath do the dede every deyl." 
The bysshop comaundyd that she shuld noght 
Beleve ne wurche as she had wroght. 



THE TALE OF THE SACRILE- 
GIOUS CAROLLERS 

{Handling Sin, 11. 89S7-9252) 

Karolles,8 wrastlynges, or somour 
games, 
Who-so ever haunteth any swyche shames 
Yn cherche, other yn chercheyerd, 

1 others besides. 2 cuuniug. 3 lie doven. < trick, 
s feat. 6 needeth. ' saying. s Circular dances, 
and the accompanying song. 



Of sacrylage he may be a-ferd; 

Or entyrludes, or syngynge. 

Or tabure bete,^ or other pypynge, 

Alle swyche thyng forbodyn es 

Whyle the prest stondeth at messe. 

Alle swyche, to every gode preste ys lothe. 

And sunner wyl he make hym wroth 10 

Than he wyl that hath no wyt, 

Ne undyrstoudeth nat holy wryt; 

And specyaly, at hyghe tymes, 

Karolles to synge, and rede rymys, 

Noght yn none holy stedes,^^ 

That myght dysturble the prestes bedes, 

Or gyf he were yn orysun 

Or any outher devocyun, 

Sacrylage ys alle hyt tolde,^^ 

Thys and many other folde. 20 

But for to leve yn cherche to daunce, 
Y shal ghow telle a f ul grete chaunce, 
And y trow, the most that fel 
Ys as soth as the gospel; 
And fyl thys chaunce yn thys londe, 
Yn Ingland, as y undyrstonde; 

Yn a kynges tyme that hyght Edward, 
Fyl thys chavmce that was so hard. 
Hyt was upp-on a crystemesse nyght 
That twelve folys 12 a karolle dyght; ^^ 30 
Yn wodehed,^* as hyt were yn cuntek 1° 
They come to a tounne men calles Colbek; 
The cherche of the tounne that they to 

come, 
Ys of Seynt Magne ^^ that suffred martyr- 
dome; 
Of Sent Bukcestre hyt ys also, 
Seynt Magnes suster, that they come to. 
Here names of alle, thus fonde y wryte. 
And as y wote, now shul ye wyte: 
Here lodes-man i" that made hem glew,^^ 
Thus ys wryte, he hyghte Gerlew; 40 

Twey maydens were yn here coveyne,!^ 
Mayden Merswynde, and Wybessyne; 
Alle these come thedyr for that enchesone ^ 
Of the prestes doghtyr of the tounne. 

The prest hyght Robert, as y kan ame;2i 
Agone hyght hys sone by name; 
Hys doghter, that these men wulde have. 
Thus ys wryte, that she hyght Ave; 
Echoune consented to o wyl, 
Who shuld go Ave oute to tyl: ^^ 50 

They graunted echone out to sende 
Bothe Wybessyne and Merswynde. 

These wommengede and tolled-^ hereonte 

« beating. i" places. " accounted. ^- fools. 
1' made. 1* madness. is contumely. ^^ Magnus. 
17 leader. is music. i» company. 20 on account. 
« guess. «2 entice. 23 enticed. 



ROBERT MANNING OF BRUNNE 



Wyth hem to karoUe the cherche aboute. 
Beune oideyned here karollyng; 
Gerlew endyted what they shuld syng: 
Thys ys the karolle that they suiige, 
As telleth the latyn tunge, 

*'Equitabat Bevo per silvam frondosam, 
Ducebat secum Merswyndam formosam. 60 
Quid stall) us, cur non imus ? " 
( . . . a gap in the MS.) 
" By the leved wode rode Bevolyne, 
Wyth hym he ledde feyre Merswyne. 
Why stonde we ? why go we iioght ? " 
Thys ys the karolle that Grysly wroght. 
Thys songe sunge they yu the cherche- 

yerd, — 
Of foly were they no thyng aferd, — 
Un-to the rnatyiies were alle done, 
And the messe shuld bygynne sone. 69 

The preste hym revest ^ to begynne messe, 
And they ne left therefore, never the lesse, 
But daunsed furthe as they bygan; 
For alle the messe they ne blan.^ 

The preste, that stode at the autere ^ 
And herde here noyse and here bere,^ 
Fro the auter down he nam,^ 
And to the cherche porche he cam. 
And seyd, " On Goddes behalve, y yow 

forbede 
That ye no lenger do swych dede; 
But Cometh yn, on feyre manere, 80 

Goddes servyse for to here, 
And doth at Crystyn mennys lawe; 
Karolleth no more for Crystys awe, 
Wurschyppeth hym with alle youre myght. 
That of the Vyrgyne was bore thys nyght." 

For alle hys byddyng, lef te they noght, 
But daunsed furth, as they thoght. 
The prest tharefore was sore a-greved; 
He preyd God that he on belevyd, 
And for Seynt Magne, that he wulde so 
werche — 901 

Yn whos wurschyp sette was the cherche — 
That swych a veniaunce ^ were on hem sent 
Are they oute of that stede were went. 
That they myght ever ryght so wende 
Unto that tyme twelvemonth ende: 
(Yn the latyne that y fonde thore, 
He seyth nat ' twelvemonth,' but ' ever- 
more.') 
Pie cursed hem there alsaume "^ 
As they karoled on here gaume. 

As sone as the preste hadde so spoke, 100 
Every hande yn outher so fast was loke, 



1 attired. 2 ceased. 
his way. 6 veugeance 



3 altar. * cries. 
7 all together. 



5 took 



That no man myght with no wundyr 
That twelvemonthe parte hem asuudyr. 

The preste gede yn, whan thys was donej 
And commaimded hys sone Agone 
That he shulde go swythe^ aftyr Ave, 
Oute of that karolle algate ® to have. 
But al to late that wurde was seyd. 
For on hem alle was the veniaunce leyd. 

Agone wende weyl for to spede; no 

Un-to the karolle asswythe ^^ he gede; 
Hys systyr by the arme he hente,^^ 
And the arme fro the body wente. 
Men wundred alle, that there wore, 
And merveyle mowe ye here more; 
For sethen ^"^ he had the arme yu hande, 
The body gede furth karoland; 
And nother body ne the arme 
Bledde never blode, colde ne warme. 
But was as drye, with al the haunche, 120 
As of a stok were ryve a braimche. 

Agone to hys fadyr went, 
And broght hym a sory present: 
" Loke, fadyr," he seyd, " and have hyt 

here. 
The arme of thy doghtyr dere 
That was myn owne syster Ave, 
That y wende y myght a save.^^ 
Thy cur syng, now sene hyt ys 
With veniaunce on thyn owne flessh; 
Felly che ^^ thou cursedst, and over sone ; 130 
Thou askedest veniaunce, thou hast thy 
bone." 15 

Yow thar ^^ nat aske gyf there was wo 
With the preste and with many mo. 

The prest that cursed for that daunce. 
On some of hys fyl harde chaunce. 
He toke hys doghtyr arme forlorn 
And byryed hyt on the morn; 
The nexte day the arme of Ave 
He fonde hyt lyggyng above the grave. 
He byryed hyt on anouther day, 140 

And eft i" above the grave hyt lay ; 
The thrydde tyme he byryed hyt. 
And eft was hyt kast oute of the pyt. 
The prest wulde byrye hyt no more; 
He dredde the veniaunce ferly^^ sore; 
Yn-to the cherche he bare the arme; 
For drede and doute of more harme, 
He ordeyned hyt for to be, 
That every man myght with ye hyt se. 

These men that gede so karolland 150 
Alle that yere hand yn hand, 



8 straightway. 9 "hy all means. 10 forthwith. 

11 took. 12 after. i? have saved. i< Savagely. 
15 boon. 16 you need. ^"^ again. is wondrous. 



THE TALE OF THE SACRILEGIOUS CAROLLERS 



They never oute of that stede gede, 

Ne uone inyght hem thenne ^ lede; 

There the cursjng fyrst bygan, 

Yn that place a-boute they ran, 

That never ne f elte they no werynes — 

As many bodyes, for goyng, dos — 

Ne mete ete, ne drank drynke, 

Ne slepte onely a-lepy^ wynke; 

Nyght, ne day, they wyst of none, i6o 

Whan hyt was come, whan hyt was gone; 

Frost ne snogh, hayle ne reyne, 

Of colde ne bete, felte they no peyne; 

Heere ne nayles never grewe, 

Ne solo wed ^ clothes, ne turned he we; 

Thundyr ne lyghtnyng dyd hem no dere,^ 

Goddes mercy dyd hyt fro hem were ; ^ 

But sungge that songge that the wo wroght, 

" Why stonde we ? why go we noght? " 

What man shuld thyr be yn thys lyve, 170 

That ne wulde hyt see, and thedyr dry ve ? ^ 

The Emperoure Henry come fro Rome 

For to see thys hard(e) dome; 

Whan he hem say, he wepte sore 

For the myschefe that he sagh thore; 

He did come wryghtes for to make 

Coveryng over hem for tempest sake; 

But that they wroght, hyt was yn veyn, 

For hyt come to no certeyn; 

For that they sette on 00 ■• day, 180 

On the touther downe hyt lay; 

Ones, twyys, thryys, thus they wrogt, 

And alle here makyng was for nogt; 

Myght no coveryng hyle ^ hem fro colde 

Tyl tyme of mercy, that Cryst hyt wolde. 

Tyme of grace fyl thurgh hys mygt 
At the twelvemonth end, on the yole ^ nyght, 
The same oure that the prest hem banned,i° 
They same oure, atwynne they woned;^^ 
That houre that he cursed hem ynne, 190 
That same oure they gede atwynne: 
And, as yn twynkelyng of an ye, 
Yn-to the cherche gun they flye, 
And on the pavenaent they fyl alle downe, 
As they hade be dede, or fal yn a swone. 

Thre days, styl, they lay echone, 
That none steryd, other flesshe or bone, 
And, at the thre days ende. 
To lyfe God grauntede hem to wende. 
They sette hem upp, and spak apert 200 

1 thence. 2 a singrle. » faded. « caused them 
no harm. * turn aside. ^ go. ^ one. » cover, 
protect. ' Yule. 10 cursed. 11 apart they went. 



To the parysshe prest, syre Robert: 

"Thou art ensample and enchesun^^ 

Of oure long confusyun; 

Thou maker art of oure travayle, 

That ys to many grete mervayle ; 

And thy traveyle shalt thou sone ende, 

For to thy long home, sone shalt thou 

wende." 
Alle they ryse that yche tyde, 
But Ave; she lay dede besyde; 
Grete sorowe had here f adyr, here brother ; 
Merveyle and drede had alle outher, 211 
Y trow no drede of soule dede,^^ 
But with pyne was broght the body dede. 
The fyrst man was the fadyr, the prest, 
That deyd aftyr the doghtjT nest.^^ 
Thys yche ^^ arme that was of Ave, 
That none myght leye yn grave. 
The emperoure dyd a vessel werche 
To do hyt yn, and hange yn the cherche. 
That alle men myght se hyt and knawe, 220 
And thenk on the chaunce when men hyt 

sawe. 
These men that hadde go thus karolland 
Alle the yere, fast hand yn hand, 
Thogh that they were than asunder, 
Yyt alle the world spake of hem wunder: 
That same hoppyng that they fyrst gede, 
That daunce gede they thurgh land and 

lede;i« 
And as they ne myght fyrst be unbounde, 
So efte to-ged}T myght they never be 

founde, 
Ne myght they never come ageyn 230 

To-gedyr, to 00 stede i'' certeyn. 

Foure gede to the courte of Rome, 
And ever hoppyng aboute they nome ; ^^ 
With sundyr lepys come they thedyr. 
But they come never efte to-gedyr; 
Here clothes ne roted, ne nayles grewe 
Ne heere ne wax, ne solowed hewe, 
Ne never hadde they amendement, 
That we herde, at any corseynt,!^ 
But at the vyrgyne Seynt Edyght,^^^ 240 
There was he botened,^! seynt Teodryght; 
On oure lady day, yn lenten tyde. 
As he slepte here toumbe besyde. 
There he hade hys medycyne, 
At seynt Edyght, the holy vyrgyne. 

12 occasion. i3 no fear of her soul's being dead. 

1* next. 15 same. i6 nations. i' one place. 

18 went. " holy saint. 20 Edith. 21 amended. 



THE PEARL* 



Perle plesaunte ^ to prynces paye, 
To clanly clos in golde so clere ! 
Oute of oryent, I hardyly saye, 
Ne proued I neuer her precios pere, 
So rou7ide, so reken iu vche araye, 
So smal, so siiio]?e her syde3 were. 
Quere-so-euer I jugged gemme^ gaye, 
I sette hyr sengeley in synglure. 
Alias ! I leste hyr in on erbere ; 
]?ur3 gresse to grounde hit fro me yot. 
I dewyne, for-dolked of luf-daungere, 
Of ]?at pryuy perle wyth-outen spot. 



SyJ?en in J»at spote^ hit fro me sprange, 
Ofte haf I wayted, wysehande ]?at wele 
J>at wont wat3 whyle deuoyde my wrange, 
& heuen my happe & al my hele, 
"pat dot3 hot J^rych my hert ^ ]?range, 
My breste in bale bot bolne & bele. 
3et Ipo-^t me neuer so swete a sange 
As stylle stounde let to me stele; 
For-so]?e per fleten to me fele. 
To J?enke hir color so clad in clot ! 
O moul, pou marre^ a rayry iuele, 
My priuy perle w^/tA-outen spotte ! 



?at spot of spyse^ [mo]t^ nede^ sprede, 

Per such ryche^ to rot is ru7ine ; 
. 31ome3 blayke & blwe '^ & rede 

7er schyne3 ful schyr agayn Ipe sunne; 

^lor & f ry te may not be f ede 

?er hit doun drof in molde^ dunne; 
. :^or vch gresse mot grow of grayne^ dede, 
No whete were elle3 to wone3 wonne; 

1 See the notes to Sir Gawain and the Green Knighi, 
the excerpt from the original text, for the main pecu- 
liarities of the manuscript. 

2 Tlie italic letters, like n here, are indicated in the 
MS. only by a sign of contraction. 

3 Each stanza in the sets of five is connected to the 
preceding stanza by the repetition in the first line of 
some word from the last line of the preceding stanza. 

* Such a word could perfectly well have its original 
final e in order to improve the metre. 

5 Brackets about letters, as here, indicate that the 
letters have been supplied or emended by an editor. 

6 w for single u. 



Of goud vche goude is ay by-gonne ; 
So semly a sede mo3t fayly not, 
])at spry[n]gande spycej vp ne sponne 
Of J>at precios perle wyth-outen spotte. 

4 
To ]?at spot Jjat I in speche expoun 
I entred, in )?at erber grene, 
In augoste in a hy3 seysoun, 
Quen corne is coruen wyth croke3 kene. 
On huyle pev perle hit trendeled doun 
Schadowed pis worte3 ful schyre & schene — 
Gilofre, gyngure, & gromylyoun, 
& pyonys powdered ay by-twene. 
3if hit wat3 semly on to sene, 
A fayr reflayr 3et fro hit flot, 
]?er wonys ]?at worJ?yly, I wot & wene, 
My precious perle wyth-outen spot. 



Bifore J^at spot my honde I spenn[e]d 

For care ful colde J?at to me ca3t; 

A de[r]uely dele in ray hert denned, 

J?a3 resoun sette myseluen sa3t. 

I playned my perle J?at per wat3 spenned 

Wyth fyrte skylle3 J)at faste fa3t; 

f>a3 kynde of kryst me comfort kenned, 

My wreched wylle in wo ay wra3te. 

I felle upon ]7at flowry fla3t, 

Suche odowr to my herne3 schot; 

I slode vpon a slepyng-sla3te, 

On J?at prec[i]os perle w^tAouten spot. 



Fro spot my spyryt J>er sprang in space, 

My body on balke pev bod in sweuen; 

My goste is gon in gode3 grace, 

In auenture per meruayle3 meuen. 

I ne wyste in ]7is worlde quere pat hit 

wace, 
Bot I knew me keste per klyfe^ cleuen; 
Towarde a foreste I here pe face, 
Where rych rokke3 ^®^ ^^ dyscreuen. 
f>e ly3t of hem my3t no mon leuen, 
J>e glemande glory ]?at of hem glent; 
For wern neuer webbe3 J^at wy3e3 weuen 
Of half so dere adub[be]mente. 



THE PEARL 



1. Pearl, pleasant for princes to set 
cleanly in clear gold, hardily I say that out 
of the Orient I never found its ^ precious 
peer. So round, so beauteous in each array, 
so small, so smooth were its sides, that 
wheresoever I judged of gay jewels 1 set it 
singly by itself. Alas! I lost it in an arbor; ^ 
tlirough grass to ground it went from nie. 
I pine, stricken ^ by love-danger, for mine 
own pearl without a spot. 

2. Since in that spot it sprang from me, 
oft have I waited, wishing for that weal that 
was wont whilom to rid me of my woe aud 
raise my hap and all my joy; it doth pierce ^ 
through my heart and makes my breast in 
bale to swell and burn. Yet me thought 
never was there so sweet a song as stole to 
me in the silent hour; forsooth there floated 
to me many, to think of her beauty, so clad 
in clay. O earth, thou marrest a lovely 
jewel, mine own pearl without a spot ! 

3. That spot must needs abound in spices 
where such riches is run to rot. Blooms 
yellow and blue and red shine there full 
sheer against the sun; flower and fruit may 
not fade ^ where it drove down in the dun 
mould; for every herb must grow from a 
seed's death; else were no wheat e'er 
brought to barns; from good each good is 
aye begun. So seemly a seed could not fail 
that springing spices should not start up 
from that precious pearl without a spot. 

4. To the spot which I tell of, in that 
green garden, I went in August, at the 
height of the season,^ when corn is cut with 
sickles keen. On the mound where the 
pearl had rolled down, these herbs so bright 
and fair cast their shade ^ — gilly-flower, 

1 The pearl, as may be seen by a glance at the original 
on the opposite page, is indifferently neuter aud femi- 
nine in the poem. 

2 Perhaps garden, i.e. Anglo-French herber, grassy 
place, herb garden. 

3 Reading fordoUed instead of fordolked, which latter 
might mean pierced. 

^ Or " pierce my heart frequently." 
6 MS. fede is doubtful. 

6 Or, " on a high festival," i.e. Assumption, 
7. Ambiguous passage : possibly the flowers shaded 
the hill; or again, the hill the flowers. 



ginger and gromwell, and ever peonies 
sprinkled between. If it was seemly to look 
upon, yet more pleasing was the sweet odour 
that floated from it. There dwells, I wot 
and ween, that worthy one, my precious 
pearl without a spot. 

5. Before that spot I clasped my hands 
for the heavy sorrow which seized me. A 
doleful ^ pang made a tumult in my heart, 
although reason reconciled me. I lamented 
my pearl that was enclosed there with 
frightened ^ reasonings that fast fought. 
Though Christ's goodness offered me com- 
fort, my wretched will sank ever into grief. 
Such a fragrance shot to my senses that I 
fell upon the flowery sward, and dropped 
into a sleeping trance above that precious 
pearl without a spot. 

II 

6. From the spot my spirit sprang into 
space; my body abode in a trance on the 
mound. My ghost by God's grace went on 
an adventure to a land where marvels move; 
I knew not where in this world it was; but 
I knew that I was borne where cliffs are 
cloven; my face I turned toward a forest 
where rich rocks were to be descried; the 
liglit of them might no man believe, the 
gleaming glory that glinted from them ; for 
never were fabrics woven by men of half so 
fair adornment. 

7. Adorned were all the sides of the 
downs wdth crystal cliffs so clear. Bright 
woods about them were, with boles as blue 
as indigo; like burnished silver the leaves 
unfold, trembling thick on every limb; when 
a gleam from the sky glides against them 
with a splendid shimmering they shine full 
bright. The gravel upon the ground '^^ was 
precious pearls of Orient, — the sunbeams 
but dark and dull in comparison with that 
ornament. 

8. The adornment of those beauteous 

8 Keeping the MS. reading, deuely, as if from Old 
French doel, duel, grief. 

9 Doubtful. The MS. fyrte may be — as it is trans- 
lated — related to A.S. fyrhtan, to frighten ; or may 
possibly stand for the numeral /or/?/. 

10 Literally: The gravel that on the groimd gan grind. 



8 



THE PEARL 



downs made my spirit all grief forget; so 
fresh was the savour of the fruit that it fairly 
restored me like food. Fowls there flew in 
the forest, of flaming hues, both small and 
great. But the eitole-string and the cithern 
player could not recount their splendid 
mirth; for when those birds beat their 
wings, they sang with sweet assent; so gra- 
cious glee could no man get as to hear and 
see their adornment. 

9. So was adorned in dear array all that 
woodland where fortune leads me forth; 
the beauty thereof for to relate is no man 
worthy. I walked aye forth in happy wise; 
no bank so big as to cause me fear; the far- 
ther into the park, the fairer gan rise the 
plain, the plants, the spice, the trees/ and 
hedges and banks, and rich meads — their 
steep banks like gold embroidery fine. I 
won to a water that ran bright by the shore. 
Lord, fair was its adornmeut ! 

10. The adornment of the precious dell 
was radiant banks of beryl bright; sweetly 
sounding swept the water, with a murmur- 
ing voice rushing by. In the bottom there 
stood bright stones, that glowed and glim- 
mered like rays through glass, or as the 
streaming^ stars, when men sleep sound,^ 
stare in the welkin in winter night; for each 
pebble, set there in the pool, was emerald, or 
sapphire, or gentle gem; so that all the pool 
gleamed with the light, so rich was its adorn- 
ment. 

Ill 

11. The adornment dear of down and 
dales, of wood and water and fair plains, 
raised bliss in me, abated my sorrows, ended 
my distress, destroyed my pains. Down 
along a stream that swiftly runs I turned 
in bliss. Crowded was my mind.^ The fur- 
ther I followed these watery vales the 
greater strength of joy strained my heart. 
As Fortune fares whereas she will, whether 
solace she send or sorrow, the wight to 
whom her will she grants ^ strives to have 
aye more and more. 

12. More of weal was in that plan^ than 
I could tell, though I had time; for earthly 
heart might not suffice to the tenth part of 

1 Literally, "pear-trees." 

2 " Raining influence," as it were. 

8 Uncertain; possibly " strong men." 
* Literally, " Brimful my brains." 
6 Meaning not quite sure. 
6 Literally, "wise." 



that gladness glad. Therefore I thought 
that Paradise was there over agamst the 
broad banks. I supposed the stream to be a 
division by waters made between joys.'' Be- 
yond the brook, by slope or dale, I imagined 
that city^ might be placed. But the water 
was deep, I durst not wade; and ever I 
longed aye more and more. 

13. More and more, and yet still more I 
listed to see beyond the brook; for if it was 
fair where I walked, much lovelier was the 
farther land. About me gan I to stumble 
and stare; to find a furd fast gan I seek; 
but dangers more I wis there were the far- 
ther I stalked by the strand; and ever it 
seemed to me I should not to flinch for woe 
where joys so precious were. Then a new 
matter came to hand that moved my mind 
aye more and more. 

14. A greater marvel gan my mind to 
daunt. I saw beyond that merry mere a 
crystal clifP right brilliant; many a royal 
ray shot from it. At the foot thereof there 
sat a child, a maiden of mien full debo- 
naire; gleaming white was her garment — I 
knew her well, I had seen her before. As 
glistening gold when it is cut, so shone that 
fair one upon the shore.^ I looked upon her 
there at length; and the longer, I knew her 
more and more. 

15. The more I searched her fair face, 
her beauteous figure scanned, such a glad- 
dening glory glided to me as heretofore 
was little wont. Desire urged me to call 
her, but confusion gave my heart a blow; I 
saw her in so strange a place; such a shock 
might well amaze my heart. Then she lifted 
up her fair face, her visage white as plain 
ivory, that stung my strayed heart; and 
more and more the longer she gazed. 

IV 

16. More than I desired, my dread arose; 
I stood full still, and durst not call ; with open 
eyes and mouth full close I stood as mute 
as hawk in hall. I deemed that spiritual was 
the purport, and I dreaded ever what should 
befall lest she whom I saw there escaped me 
ere I could arrest her with my voice. But 

7 i.e. the stream separated two joyous lands. Mean- 
ing a bit doubtful. 

8 i.e. the Heavenly Jerusalem. 

9 For the MS. anunder shore one is tempted to read 
anunder gore (garment)," under gore " being a favorite 
rime-tag with some of the romancers in such a connec- 
tion. 



THE PEARL 



that gracious and gay one without fault,^ 
so smooth, so small, so seemly slight, rose 
up in her royal array — a precious piece in 
pearls bedight. 

17. Set pearls of royal price there might 
man by grace have seen when she, . fresh 
as fleur-de-lys, down the bank quickly took 
her way. All glistening white was her man- 
tle,2 open at sides and brightly bound with 
the purest margery pearls, methinks, that 
ever I saw yet with mine eyes. The long 
sleeves,^ I wot and I ween, were adorned 
and set with double pearls; her kirtle of the 
same bright stuff was studded round with 
precious pearls. 

18. A studded crown yet wore that girl, 
of margeries and no other stone, high pin- 
nacled of clear white pearl, with blooming 
flowers wrought upon it. Her head had 
no other fillet, her own locks ^ covered her 
quite. Her semblant was stately as that of 
duke or earl; her hue more white than 
whalebone.^ As bright as cut gold shone 
her locks, that lay lightly unbound over her 
shoulders. Her deep collar did not lack em- 
broidery of precious pearls. 

19. Set and sewed was every hem, at 
hands, at sides, at the openings, with white 
pearls and no other gem; and burnished 
white was her vesture. But a wondrous 
pearl without a flaw was set securely amidst 
her breast. A man's reason would be greatly 
baffled ere his mind could comprehend its 
size; no tongue, I think, would suffice to 
give an adequate account of that sight, so 
clean and clear and pure it was — that 
precious pearl where it was set. 

20. Clad in pearl, that precious piece be- 
yond the water came down the shore. From 
here to Greece was there never gladder 
man than I when she stood on the bank. She 
was nearer to me than aunt or niece; my 
joy therefore was much the more. Speech 
she proferred me, that dear being.^ Inclin- 
ing low, in womanly fashion, she doffed her 
crown of great treasure, and greeted me 

1 Perhaps to be taken literally, "without gall." 
Doves and such gentle things were supposed to be de- 
void of gall. 

2 The MS. beauuiys is doubtful. 
8 Literally, "laps." 

4 The MS. lere leke is very diflBcult. Here helce (for 
efte), = hair also ; and here-leke = hair-locks, have been 
proposed. Hair lace might be suggested ; or leke might 
conceivably represent the Old Norse suffix -leikr ; here- 
leke being then simply hair, growth of hair. 

6. i.e. ivory. 

6 Literally, " special spice." 



with blithe countenance. Glad was I that 
ever I was born, to answer that sweet one 
clad in pearls. 

V 

21. " Oh pearl," quoth I, " in pearls clad, 
art thou my pearl that I have mourned, re- 
gretted by me lonely in the night ? Much 
longing for thee have I concealed since into 
the grass thou glided from me. Pensive, 
impaired, I suffer pain, whilst thou to a life 
of joy art come in the land of Paradise, un- 
touched by strife. What fate has borne my 
jewel hither, and left me in this grief and 
great anxiety ? Since we were torn atwain 
and parted I have been a joyless jeweller." 

22. Then that jewel clad in gentle gems 
raised her face and her gray ej^es, set on her 
crown of orient pearl, and soberly there- 
after gan she speak: *' Sir, ye have reck- 
oned amiss, to say that your pearl is all lost 
that is enclosed in a coffer as comely as this 
garden gracious gay; herein to bide forever, 
and play, where loss nor mourning come 
never nigh. Here were a treasure-chest in- 
deed for thee if thou were a gentle jeweller. 

23. " But, gentle jeweller, if thou must 
lose thy joy for a gem that was dear to 
thee, thou seemst to me bent on a mad pur- 
pose, and busiest thee for a slight reason. 
For that which thou lost was but a rose, 
that flowered and failed as nature de- 
creed. Now, through the virtue of the chest 
that encloses it, it has become a pearl of 
price. — And thou hast called thy fate a 
thief, that manifestly has made for thee 
something out of nothing. Thou blamest 
the very cure of thy mischief. Thou art no 
natural jeweller." 

24. A jewel to me then was this guest, 
and jewels were her gentle saws. "For- 
sooth," quoth I, "my blissful best one, my 
great distress thou takest all away. To be 
excused I make request; for I believed my 
pearl vanished. Now I have it I shall 
make merry and dwell with it in briglit 
groves, and praise my Lord and all his laws, 
who has brought me near to this bliss. Now 
were I with you beyond these waves I were 
a joyful jeweller." 

25. " Jeweller," then said that clean gem, 
" why jest ye men, so mad ye be ? Three 
words hast thou spoken at once ; and unad- 
vised, forsooth, were all three. Thou know- 
est not what in the world one doth mean. 



lO 



THE PEARL 



Thy words before thy wit gan fly. Thou 
sayest that thou believest me to be in this 
dale because thou canst see me with thine 
eyes; secondly thou sayest that thou thyself 
shalt dwelt with me right here; the third is, 
to pass this fair water — that may no joy- 
ful jeweller. 

VI 

26. " I hold that jeweller little to praise 
who believes ^ well what he sees with his 
eye; and much to blame and uncourteous 
him who believes our Lord would make a 
lie, who loyally promised to raise your life, 
though foitmie caused your flesh to perish. 
Ye set his words all awry who believe noth- 
ing but ye see it; and that is a point of 
pride which evil beseems each good man, — 
to believe that no tale is quite true unless 
his own reason can judge of it. 

27. "Judge now thyself whether thou 
knowest how to talk — as if a man should 
have words with God. Thou sayst thou 
shalt dwell in this precinct. Methinks it be- 
hoves thee first to ask leave, — and even 
then of permission thou mightst fail. Thou 
wishest over this water to cross; first thou 
must take other counsel; thy corse must 
colder sink ^ in the mould, for it was undone 
at the grove of Paradise; our first father 
abused it there. Through dreary death it 
behoves each man to pass ere over this 
stream the Lord suffer him." 

28. " Doomest thou me," quoth I, " my 
sweet, to grief again, then I must perish. 
Now I have found what I lost, must I again 
forgo it ere ever I die ? Why must I both 
miss and find it ? My precious pearl causes 
me great pain. What serves treasure but to 
make man weep, when he must lose it again 
with sorrow ? Now reck I never how I de- 
cline, nor how far from my land one banish 
me, when I have no part in mj pearl. Ex- 
cept enduring grief what may men expect ? " 

29. " Thou expectest naught but deep 
distress," then said that wight; " why dost 
thou so ? For din of grief over lesser losses 
oft many a man overlooks the greater. 
Thou oughtst the better to rule thyself, 
and love aye God, and weal and woe, for 
anger gains thee not a cress. Who needs 
must suffer, let him not be so wild; for 
though thou dance as any doe, leap, and 

1 Reading leues for loues of the MS. 

2 The MS. keue is difficult. 



cry thy wild remonstrances, yet when thou 
canst no further, to or fro, thou must abide 
what he shall adjudge. 

30. " Judge, Lord ! Ever ordain for him ! ^ 
He will not turn a foot from the way. Thy 
amends amount not to a mite, though thou 
shouldst for sorrow be never blithe. Cease 
thy rebellion, and end complauit, and seek 
his compassion right sw^iftly and earnestly. 
Thy prayer may move his pity, that mercy 
shall show her power; his comfort may al- 
leviate thy languor, and lightly drive off thy 
afflictions; for marred or made, mourning 
and rejoicing,^ all lies in him to ordain and 
judge." 

VII 

31. Then spake I to that damsel: " Let 
my Lord not be angry, if I rave rashly, 
spurning in speech. My heart was all 
stricken with loss, as welling water gushes 
out of the spring. I put myself ever in his 
mercy. Rebuke me not with fell words, 
though I go astray, my dear adored one; 
but help me kindly with your comfort, pit- 
eously thinking upon this — ye joined to- 
gether ^ care and me, ye who once were the 
ground of all my bliss. 

32. " My bliss and my bale both have ye 
been; but my sorrow was much the greater. 
Since thou wast removed from every dan- 
ger, I wist never where my pearl was gone. 
Now that I see it, my anguish grows less. 
And when we separated we were at one; 
God forbid we now be wroth, we meet so 
seldom by stock or stone. Though ye know 
how to speak courteously, I am but muck, 
and manners ^ lack. But Christ's mercy, and 
Mary and John — these are the grounds of 
all my bliss. 

33. " In bliss I see thee blithely set, and I 
a man all mournful and downcast. Ye take 
full little heed thereof, though I oft suffer 
fierce harms; but now that I am here in 
your presence, I would beseech without de- 
bate that ye would tell me in sober assent 
what manner of life ye lead early and late; 
for I am full fain that your estate has truly 
come to worship and weal; the highway of 
all my joy it is, the ground of all my bliss." 

3 Obscure lines. Possibly better, "Our Lord and 
Judge has ordained everything." 

4 A difficult passage. 

5 Literally, " made accord between." 

6 MS. marerez mysse, which might be translated "a 
botcher's failure.'' 



THE PEARL 



II 



34. "Now may bliss betide thee, sir!" 
then said that one so lovely of form and 
face; " and welcome be thou here, to walk 
and bide, for now thy speech to me is dear. 
Masterful mood and high pride, I promise 
thee, are thoroughly hated here. My Lord 
loves not to chide,^ for meek are all who 
dwell near him ; and when in his place thou 
shalt appear, be deeply devout in entire 
meekness. My Lord the Lamb loves ever 
such cheer; that is the ground of all my 
bliss. 

35. " Thou sayst I lead a blissful life, and 
wouldst learn the degree thereof. Thou 
knowest well that when thy pearl departed 
I was full young and tender of age; but my 
Lord the Lamb through his Godhead, he 
took me to him in marriage, crowned me 
queen, in bliss to dwell for a length of 
days that ever shall endure. And endowed 
with all his heritage is his loved one; I am 
wholly his ; his worth, his excellence, his 
nobility is the root and ground of all my 
bliss." 

VIII 

36. « Blissful one," said I, « can this be 
true ? — be not displeased if I speak error 
— art thou the queen of the heavens blue, 
whom all this world must honour ? We be- 
lieve on Mary, whom grace sprang from, 
who bore in the flower of virginity a child. 
Who is it could remove the crown from her 
unless she surpassed her in some excel- 
lence ? ISTow for her unique sweetness we 
call her the Phoenix of Araby, which flew 
peerless in its nature, like to the Queen of 
courtesy." 

37. " Courteous Queen," then said that 
beautiful one, kneeling on the ground with 
face enfolded. "Matchless Mother and 
fairest Maid, blessed Beginner of every 
grace! " Then rose she up and gan pause, 
and spake to me at that time : " Sir, many 
chase and capture prey there ; ^ but within 
this place are no supplanters; that Empress 
has all the heavens, and earth and hell are 
under her sway; yet none she will deprive 
of their heritage, for she is Queen of cour- 
tesy. 

38. "The court of the kingdom of the 
living God has this property in its very 

1 Perhaps " loves not chiding." 

2 Amending the MS. here to pere, = there, in your 
world. The line is difficult. 



being : each that arrives therein is queen or 
king of all the realm, and yet never dispos- 
sesses another; but each one is fain of the 
others' having, and would that their ^ crowns 
were worth five times as much — if their 
amending were possible. But my Lady, of 
whom Jesus sprang, she holds full high the 
empire over us all ; and that displeases none 
of our company, for she is Queen of cour- 
tesy. 

39. " In courtesy, as saith St. Paul, we 
are all members of Jesus Christ. So head 
and arm and leg and trunk ^ belong to his 
body so true and good. Right so is every 
Christian soul a limb belonging to the Mas- 
ter of might. Then consider whether ^ hate 
or any bitterness is rife or exists among 
thy limbs : thy head has neither anger nor 
resentment if thou bear a ring on arm or 
finger. So fare we all with love and liking 
to King and Queen ^ by courtesy." 

40. " Courtesy," said I, " and great char- 
ity I believe to be among you. But — let 
my speech not grieve you — "^ 

thou raisest thyself over high in heaven, to 
make thee queen, who wast so young. What 
greater honour could he achieve that had 
endured in the cruel world, and lived in 
penance his whole life long, with bodily bale 
to buy him bliss ? What greater worship 
could he attain than be crowned king by 
courtesy ? 

IX 

41. " That courtesy is too free of deed if 
it be sooth that thou sayst. Thou didst not 
live two years among our people ; thou kne w- 
est never how God to please nor to him 
pray, — no, neither Pater nor Creed. And 
made queen on the first day ! I can not be- 
lieve — so God me speed — that God would 
turn so wrongly aside; the rank of coimt- 
ess, damsel, by my faith, it were fair for thee 
to hold in heaven, — or else that of a lady 
of less degree. But a queen ! — that is an 
attainment ^ too great." 

42. " There is no limit of his goodness," 
then said to me that worthy wight ; " for 
all is truth that he appoints, and he can do 

s The companions'. 

* Literally, " navel " ; most translate "nail." 

5 Reading tcher for ichat of the text. 

6 The Lamb and Mary. ? a. line missing. 

8 The word date in this set of stanzas is difficult of 
tranBlation, its significance being excessively strained. 



12 



THE PEARL 



nothing but right. As Matthew tells in your 
mass, in the truthful gospel of God Al- 
mighty ; in parable be gan it full readily 
divine, and likens it to heaven light. * My 
realm,' he says, * is like indeed to a lord that 
had a vineyard, I wot. The season of the 
year was come when to labour in the vine- 
yard it was high time. 

43. " ' That time of year well know the 
hinds. The lord full early rose up to hire 
workmen to his vineyard, and finds there 
some to his purpose. Into accord they gau 
fall for a penny a day, and forth they 
go ; they twine and work and take great 
pains, cut and bind and make it snug. About 
midmorn the lord to the market goes, and 
idle men finds he standing there. " Why 
stand ye idle ? " he says to those. " Know 
ye not what day this is ? " 

44. " ' " Ere break of day hither are we 
come " ; so was all together their answer 
given; ^ " We have stood here since rose the 
suD, and no man bids us do aught." "Go 
into my vineyard; do what ye can," so said 
the lord, and confirmed it.- " What reason- 
able hire by night be run, I will pay you 
in thought and deed." They went into the 
vineyard and wrought, and all day the lord 
went his way, and brought new men to his 
vineyard. Wellnigh was passed the precious 
day^ 

45. "'At the time of evensong, an hour 
before the sun goes down, he saw there idle 
men full strong, and said to them with sober 
voice, " Why stand ye idle all day long ? " 
They said their labour was nowhere sought. 
" Go to my vineyard, yeomen young, and 
work and do that which ye may." Soon the 
world became right dark ; the sun was 
down and it waxed late. To take their hire 
he summoned them ; the term of the day 
was all passed. 

X 

46. " * The time of day the lord perceived, 
called to the reve, "Man, pay the companv; 
give them the hire that I them owe. And, 
further, that none may reprove me, set them 
all in a row and give each one alike a 
penny. Begin at the last that stands low, 
till that thou to the first attain." And then 
the first gan to complain, and said that they 

1 The MS. reading " sozt " is difflcvdt. 
* The usual meaning of the MS. made it tozt would 
be, " was reluctant, made difficulties about it." 



had travailled sore : "These but for an 
hour exerted themselves ; it seems to us 
that we ought to have more." 

47. " ' " More have we deserved, it seems 
to us, that have suffered the day's heat, 
than these that wrought not two hours ; 
and thou dost make them like to us." Then 
said the lord to one of those, " Friend, I 
will cause thee no loss; take what is thine 
own and go. I hired thee at a penny for the 
whole day ; ^ why beginnest thou now to 
complain ? Was not a penny thy covenant 
there ? One may not plead for more than 
covenant. Why shouldst thou then ask 
more ? " 

48. "'"Furthermore, is not my giving 
lawful for me, to do with mine what pleases 
me ? Or else thou dost lift a malicious eye 
because I am good and deceive none."* 
Thus shall I,' quoth Christ, * apportion it : 
the last shall be the first that attains, and 
the first the last, be he never so swift ; for 
many are called, though few are chosen.' ^ 
Thus poor men ever receive their part ; 
though they may come late and be feeble, 
and though their labour ends shortly, the 
mercy of God is so much the more. 

49. " More have I here of joy and bliss, 
of ladyship great and life's bloom, than all 
the wights in the world could win in the 
way of right and justice. Although I have 
but now begun — came into the vineyard at 
eventide — the Lord remembered my hire 
first; I was immediately paid in full. Others 
there were that gave more time, that toiled 
and sweat for long before, who yet of their 
hire nothing have — peradventure shall not 
for a year more." 

50. Then further I spake and said out- 
right, " Methinks thy tale unreasonable. 
God's righteousness is ready and evermore 
awake, or else Holy Writ is but a fable. 
In the Psalter ^ is a clear verse that de- 
clares a definite point : ' Thou rewardest 
each one according to his deserts, thou high 
King ever foreordaining.' Now if thou came 
to payment before him that endured the 
long day, then is the less in work the greater 
in reward; and the longer one works, the 
less he receives." 

s MS. agrete, "for the whole," not perfectly clear. 

4 It is difficult to make logic of the conjunctions in 
this passage. 

5 The MS. Be mykez is difficult and no attempt is 
made to translate it. 

6 Psalm 62 : 12. 



THE PEARL 



13 



XI 

51. " Of more and less in God's King- 
dom," the gentle one said, " there is no dis- 
tinction. For there is each man paid alike, 
whether little or much be his worth. For 
the gentle Chieftain is no niggard, whether 
he deal soft or hard. He pours his gifts 
like water from a spring, or floods from an 
exhaustless deep. Large is the franchise of 
the man who ever stood in awe of Him that 
rescues from sin ; ^ no bliss is withheld ^ 
from him,^ for the grace of God is great 
enough. 

52. " But now, in order to overcome me, 
thou declarest that I have wrongly taken 
mf penny here. Thou sayest that I that 
came too late, am not worthy so great hire. 
Where didst thou ever know any man abide 
so holy in his prayer that he in some way 
did not at length forfeit the reward of the 
clear heavens ? And the older they were 
the oftener they did so : they left right and 
wrought wrong. Mercy and grace had to 
rescue them then, for the grace of God is 
great enough. 

53. " But the innocent have enough of 
grace ; as soon as they are born, lineally by 
the water of baptism they descend ; then 
are they brought into the vineyard. Imme- 
diately the might of death causes their ^ 
day with darkness to decline. The gentle 
Lord then pays his servants that wrought 
no wrong ere they went thence. They did 
his commandment, tliey were within the 
vineyard ; why should he not allow their 
labour, and pay them first at the end of the 
time, for the grace of God is great enough ? 

54. " Well known it is that all mankind 
first was wrought to perfect bliss. Our first 
father forfeited that through an apple that 
he bit upon. We were all damned for that 
meat to die in grief out of delight ; and 
after to wend to the heat of hell, therein 
to dwell without respite. But there came 
a remedy quickly; rich blood ran on the 
rood so rough, and precious water then in 
that extremity; the grace of God waxed 
great enough. 

55. " Enough there waxed out of that 

well, blood and water from the broad wound : 

the blood bought us from the bale of hell 

^ An extremely difficult and uncertain passage. See 
Osgood's note. 

2 The meaning of MS. reparde is doubtful. 

3 Literally, " them. " * Literally, ' ' the. ' ' 



and delivered us from the second death. 
The water that followed the glaive so grimly 
ground is baptism, the sooth to tell, that 
washes away the dreadful guilts by which 
Adam in death us drowned. Now is there 
naught in the round world between us and 
bliss that he has not withdrawn ; and in 
happy hour is bliss ° restored, and the grace 
of God is great enough. 

XII 

56. " Grace enough the man may have 
who sins then anew, if he repent; but with 
sorrow and sighing he must it crave, and 
bide the pain thereto annexed; but right 
reason, that can not err, saves evermore 
the innocent; it is a doom that God never 
gave — that ever the giiiltless should be 
harmed. The guilty may contrition reach 
and be through mercy haled to grace; but 
he that never stooped to guile — that in- 
nocent one is safe and right. 

57. " Thus I know well in this case, two 
men to save is reasonable and good : the 
righteous man shall see his face, the harm- 
less person shall come to him. The Psalter 
in a passage says it thus : ' Lord, who shall 
climb to thy high hill, or rest within thy 
holy place ?' Himself to answer he is not 
slow: *Who hath done no harm with his 
hands, that is of heart both clean and light, 
there shall his step ever be established.* 
The innocent is aye safe by right. 

58. *' The righteous man also shall ap- 
proach that proper pile^ who takes not his 
life in vain, nor flatters his neighbour with 
any guile. This righteous one Solomon saw 
plain, how kindly our King "^ gan him re- 
ceive; by ways full straight he gan him 
lead, ^ and showed him the realm of God 
awhile, as though to say * Lo, yon lovely 
isle ! thou canst it win if thou be wight.' 
But certainly, without peril, the innocent is 
aye safe by right. 

59. " Anent righteous men 3'et says one 

— David in the Psalter, if ever ye saw it 

— * Lord, draw thy servant never into judg- 
ment, for none living to thee is justified.' 
Therefore to court when thou shalt come 
where all our causes shall be tried, allege 
thy right to be received by this same speech 
that I have espied. But He on the cross 

5 The MS. pal, subject of "is restored," is obscure. 

6 i. e. castle, edifice, the new Jerusalem. 

7 Manuscript dubious hereabouts. 

8 Literally, •' restrain." 



14 



THE PEARL 



that bloody died, grievously pierced through 
the hands, grant thee to pass, when thou art 
tried, by innocence, and not by right ! 

GO. " Whoso can read aright, let him look 
on the book and be advised how Jesus 
walked with the former people, and men 
broiiglit tlieir children to him. For hap 
and health that from him went, they fairly 
prayed him to touch their children. His dis- 
ciples wrongfully bade let be, and with 
their words stayed full many. Jesus then 
said to them sweetly, ' Away ! Let the chil- 
dren to me forthwith; for such is the heav- 
enly kingdom arrayed.' The innocent is aye 
safe by right. 

XIII 

61. " His mild disciples then Jesus to 
him called, and said his kingdom could no 
wight win but he came thither right as 
a child. Otherwise should he never come 
therein. Harmless, true, and undefiled, 
without mote or speck of soiling sin — when 
such as these knock on the door, quickly to 
them shall one unpin the gate. There is the 
bliss that can not cease, which the jeweller 
sought through precious stones, and sold all 
his goods, both linen and wool, to buy him 
a pearl that was flawless. 

62. '"This flawless pearl, that bought is 
dear, for which the jeweller gave all his 
goods, is like the realm of the clear heav- 
ens,' so said the Father of field and flood; 
for it is perfect, clean, and clear; and roimd 
without end, and blithe of mood, and com- 
mon to all that righteous were. Lo, even 
in the middle of my breast it stood. My 
Lord the Lamb, that shed his blood, he 
placed it there in token of peace. I rede 
thee forsake the frantic world and pur- 
chase thy flawless pearl." 

63. " Oh, flawless pearl, in pearls pure, 
that bears," said I, "the pearl of price, who 
formed for thee thy fair figure? Who 
wrought thy weeds he was full wise. Thy 
beauty came never from Nature; Pygma- 
lion painted never thy face ; nor did Aris- 
totle with his learning tell the nature of 
these properties. Thy colour passes the 
fleur-de-lys; thine angel-bearing so purely 
courteous — tell me, bright one, what kind 
of office bears the pearl so flawless? " 

64. " My flawless Lamb, who all re- 
deemed," quoth she, "my dear Destiny, 
chose me, unmeet, to be his mate. At a 



certain time that union ^ became fitting — 
when I went from your dark world. He 
called me to his favour z^ ' Come hither to 
me, my love so sweet, for mote nor spot is 
none in thee.' He gave me might and beauty 
too; in his blood he washed my weeds on 
the dais, and crowned me clean in virgin- 
ity, and clad me in flawless pearls." 

65. " Why, flawless bride that shines so 
bright, that has dignities so rich and great, 
what manner of thing may this Lamb be, 
who would wed thee unto his wife ? Over 
all others didst thou climb so high to lead 
with him so stately ^ a life ? So many a 
comely lady* in great suffering for Christ 
has lived, and thou hast all those dear ones 
driven out, and from that marriage all 
others kept — thou all alone, so stout and 
strong — a matchless maid and a flaw- 
less!" 

XIV 

66. " Flawless," replied that lovely queen, 
"unblemished 1 am, without blot, and that 
may I properly maintain; but 'matchless 
queen ' then said I not. The Lamb's wives 
in bliss are we, a himdred and forty thou- 
sand together, as in the Apocalypse it is 
clear; St. John saw them all in a group on 
the hill of Sion — that seemly spot. The 
Apostle saw them in spiritual dream ar- 
rayed for the wedding in that hilltop, the 
new city of Jerusalem. 

67. " Of Jerusalem I will in speech ex- 
pound, if thou wilt know what his condition 
is — my Lamb, my Lord, my dear Jewel, 
my Joy, ray Bliss, my Lover free. The 
prophet Isaiah of him spoke piteously — 
for his sweetness: 'That glorious, guilt- 
less One that men slew for no deed of 
felony. As a sheep to the slaughter then 
was he led; and as a lamb that the clippers 
take in the field, so closed he his mouth to 
every query, when the Jews judged him 
in Jerusalem.' 

68. " In Jerusalem was my Lover slain, 
and rent on the rood by villains cruel; all 
our griefs full ready to bear, he took on 
himself our heavy cares; with buffets was 
his face flayed that was so fair to look upon; 
for sin he accounted himself as nothing — 
he who never had sin of his own to control. 

1 Meaning doubtful. 2 More literally, "gentleness." 
s Literally, " lady-like.'» « Literally, " comely one 

under comb." 



THE PEARL 



5 



For us he let himself be beaten and bent, 
and stretched upon the cruel beam, as meek 
as lamb that made no plaint. For us he 
suffered in Jerusalem ; 

69. "Jerusalem, Jordan, and Galilee, 
where baptized the good St. John — his 
words accorded with those of Isaiah. When 
Jesus gan toward him go, be said of him 
this prophecy: 'Lo, God's Lamb as true as 
stone, that does away the heavy sins that 
all this world has wrought,' Himself he 
wrought never one, yet on himself he took 
them all. His generation who can reckon, 
thaj; died for us in Jerusalem ? 

70. " Thus in Jerusalem my Lover sweet 
twice was accounted a lamb by true record 
of either prophet, for his mood so meek 
and all his bearing. The third time is meetly 
described in the Apocalypse. Amidst the 
throne, where saints sat, the apostle John 
saw him clearly^ reading the book with 
square leaves, where seven signets were 
set together. And at that sight each power 
gan quail, in hell, in earth and Jerusalem. 

XV ^ 

71. "This Jerusalem Lamb had never 
stain of other hue than wholly fair, which 
speck nor spot might touch, for the white 
wool so rich and full.^ Therefore each soul 
that had never spot is to that Lamb a wor- 
thy wife ; and, though each day a store he 
fetch, among us comes no other struggle 
nor strife, but each single one we would 
were five; — the more the merrier, so God 
me bless. In a great company our love 
thrives more in honour, and never less. 

72. " Less of bliss can none bring to us 
who bear this pearl upon our breast, for 
they can have no stain who bear the crest 
of spotless pearl. Although our bodies 
moulder in the earth, and ye cry for sor- 
row without rest, we have thorough knowl- 
edge ; by the death of One our hope is 
made perfect.^ The Lamb gladdens us, our 
care is cast aside; he charms us all at every 
feast; 3 each one's bliss is full and best, and 
never one's honour the less. 

73. " Lest thou disbelieve my seemly 
tale, it is written in a passage of the Apoca- 
lypse. * I saw,' says John, * the Lamb great 
and strong, stand on the mount of Sion, and 
with him maidens an hundred thousand, 

1 Literally, " rank and rife." ^ This passage is 

not entirely satisfactory. s Possibly," mass." 



and four and forty thousand more. On all 
their foreheads written I found the Lamb's 
name, his Father's also. A cry from heaven 
I heard then like the voice of many waters 
running turbulently, and like the thunder 
leaping in the black crags ; that sound was 
never less. 

74. " ' Nevertheless, though it was a 
great shout and a loud voice, a note full 
new I heard them play; right pleasant was 
it to listen to. As harpers harp on their 
harps, that new song tliey sang full clear, 
in echoing notes a gentle lay. Full fairly 
they took up the tune together, right be- 
fore God's chair; and the four beasts that 
him obey, and the elders so stately of mien, 
their song they sang never the less.' 

75. " Nevertheless no one was ever so 
cunning, for all the craft that ever he knew, 
that of that song he could sing one note, 
except the band that follows the Lamb ; for 
they are redeemed, far removed from the 
earth, as new fruit due to God. And to the 
gentle Lamb are they appointed as being 
like to himself of face and hue; for lying 
nor untrue tale never touched their tongue 
for any distress. That spotless band can 
never depart from the flawless Master." 

76. " Nevertheless let my thoughts have 
place," said I, " my Pearl. Though I ask 
searching questions, it is not to tempt thy 
wit so keen, who to Christ's chamber art 
chosen. I am but muck and mire, and thou 
a lovely rose so rich; and thou abidest here 
by this blissful bank where living pleasure 
can never fail. Now, oh being of simplicity 
compact, I would ask thee one thing ex- 
pressly, and though I be rude as a churl,* 
let my prayer avail nevertheless. 

XVI 

77. "Nevertheless earnestly I entreat 
you — if ye can allow it to be done, — 
as thou art glorious without gall, do not 
deny my rueful boon. Have ye no homes 
in castle wall, no manor where ye may 
meet and dwell ? Thou tellest me of Jeru- 
salem, the rich and royal, w'here David 
great was dight on throne; but in these 
groves it cannot lie; but in Judea it is, that 
noble dwelling. As ye are altogether ^ flaw- 
less, so should your dwellings be without 
blemish. 

* The MS. blose is doubtful ; possibly it is " flame." 
5 Literally, '* under moon," a rime-tag. 



THE PEARL 



78. " This unblemished band thou speakest 
of, of thousands thronged so great a rout, 
it behoves you to have, without a doubt, 
a great city, — for ye are many. Such a 
lovely array of precious jewels, — 't were evil 
done that ye should dwell outside. And by 
these banks where I tarry I see no build- 
ing anywhere about. I trow ye dwell alone 
and live retired, to look on the glory of 
this gracious stream. If thou hast other 
dwellings stout, now direct me to that fair 
castle." 

79. " The castle thou meanest in the land 
of Jiidea," then said to me that precious 
being,! « ^^]j^f^ jg ^j^g gj^y -which the Lamb 
founded to suffer in sorely for man's sake 
— namely, the old Jerusalem; for there 
the old guilt was slaked. But the new 
Jerusalem, that came of God's sending, 
the apostle in the Apocalypse took for his 
theme. The Lamb devoid of all black spots 
has borne thither his fair band; and as his 
flock is without fleck, so is his city without 
sin. 

80. " Two cities are to be distinguished, 
both called Jerusalem nevertheless — which 
is to signify to you naught but 'city of 
God,' or 'sight of peace.' =^ In the one our 
peace was made complete: the Lamb chose 
it to suffer in with pain. In the other is 
naught but peace to glean, that shall last 
for ever and aye. That is the city that we 
press to after our flesh is laid to rot; there 
glory and bliss shall ever increase for the 
band without a spot." 

81. " Spotless maid so meek and mild,'* 
then said I to that lovely flower, " bring 
me to that fair dwelling, and let me see 
thy blissful bower." The bright one said: 
*' That will God deny; thou may not en- 
ter within his hill. But of the Lamb I have 
obtained for thee through great favour a 
sight thereof. Outwardly thou may see 
that clean cloister, but inwardly not a foot; 
to step in the street thou hast no vigour, 
unless thou were clean without a spot. 

XVII 

82. " If I this city shall to thee disclose, 
go up toward this river's head; and I 
abreast on this side shall follow till thou 
to a hill be come." Then would I no longer 

1 Literally," special spice." 

2 Such etymologizing of names is common in the 
Scriptures, and especially so in saints' legends. 



bide, but glided by branches with lovely 
leaves, till I espied the hill, and gazed on 
the city as I pressed forward, revealed be- 
yond the brook from me, that brighter 
shone than the sun with its shafts. In the 
Apocalypse is its fashion told, as describes 
it the apostle John. 

83. As John the apostle saw it, so saw I 
that city of great renown, Jerusalem, so 
new and royally dight, as it was lighted 
from the heavens down. The burg was all 
of burned gold bright, like gleaming glass 
burnished clear, with gentle gems placed 
underneath; with bantels ^ twelve set on a 
base, and foundations twelve of rich work. 
Each tier was a different stone; as in the 
Apocalypse the apostle John fairly de- 
scribes this same town. 

84. As John in his writ named these 
stones, I knew their names after his count. 
Jasper was the first gem called, that I on 
the first base descried; it gleamed green in 
the lowest row; sapphire held the second 
place; then the chalcedony without flaw in 
the third tier shone pale and pure; the 
emerald was the fourth, so green of hue; 
the sardonyx the fifth stone; the sixth, the 
ruby, as in the Apocalypse the apostle John 
distinguished it. 

85. John added yet the chrysolite as the 
seventh gem in the foundation; the eighth 
the beryl clear and white; the twin-hued 
topaz the ninth inlaid; the chrysophrase 
the tenth is called; the gentle jacinth the 
eleventh; the twelfth, the fairest of all, the 
amethyst, purple blent with blue. The wall 
above the bantels was of jasper that shone 
like glistening glass. I knew it by his 
devising in the Apocalypse, the apostle 
John's. 

86. As John devised I saw further. These 
twelve steps were broad and steep. The 
fair city stood above them right square, as 
long, as broad, as high; the streets of gold 
like sheer glass, the wall of jasper that 
glinted like light; ^ the dwellings within 
were adorned with all kinds of jewelry that 
could be gathered together. Each side of 
the square stretched in this manner twelve 
furlongs space ere ever it ended, all squared 

3 This perhaps means projecting courses of stone. 
The architectural details are not quite clear. 

* The MS. glayre may be our glare of an egg, practi- 
cally equivalent to varnish, gum; or glare, brightness, 
shining ; or the rare AS. glaer, glossed as " electrum," 
i.e. amber or a composition of gold and silver. 



THE PEARL 



17 



in height and length and breadth, for John 
the apostle saw it measured. 

XVIII 

87. Yet more I saw as John describes it. 
Each side of that place had three gates; so 
twelve in succession I espied ; the entrances 
covered with rich plates, and each gate of 
a margery, a perfect pearl that never fades. 
Each in scripture displayed a name of one of 
Israel's children following their dates — that 
is to say, as their birth was. The eldest aye 
firsft thereon was put. Such a light there 
gleamed in all the streets they needed 
neither sun nor moon. 

88. Of sun nor moon they had no need; 
for God himself was their lamplight, the 
Lamb their lantern, forsooth. Through him 
gleamed the town all bright. Through wall 
and house my glances went, for their subtle 
clearness hindered in no wise the light. 
The high throne there might ye behold 
decked with all its array, as John the 
apostle well describes. The high God him- 
self sat upon it. A river ran from out the 
throne, which was brighter than both the 
sun and moon. 

89. Sun nor moon shone never so sweet 
as the plenteous flood from out that floor. 
Swiftly it swung through every street with- 
out filth or impurity or slime. Church was 
there none within the city; no chapel or 
temple was ever set there. The Almighty 
was their minster meet, the Lamb their 
sacrifice.! The gates were never closed, but 
evermore open at each street; there none 
enters to take his abode that bears any 
blemish beneath the moon. 

90. The moon can gain no might therein; 
too spotty she is, of nature "^ too grim ; and 
also there is never night. Why should the 
moon there her compass climb, and strive 
to match the glorious light which shines 
upon that river's brink? The planets are in 
too poor a plight, and the very sun far too 
dim. About the water are trees full bright 
that early bear twelve fruits of life. Twelve 
times a year they bear full plenteously, re- 
new themselves at each moon. 

91. So great a marvel under the moon 
might no fleshly heart endure, as when I 
gazed upon that city, so wondrous was the 

1 " Sacrifice " is the object of the obscure word re^e^ 
possibly meaning "to reproduce." 
« Literally, "body." 



fashion thereof. I stood as still as dazed 
quail for the strangeness of that glorious^ 
vision, so that I felt neither rest nor toil, so 
was I ravished with the pure radiance. For 
I dare say with sure conscience, that had a 
man in the body endured that joy, though 
all clerks had him in care, his life were lost 
under the moon. 

XIX 

92. Right as the great moon rises ere the 
day-gleam has quite gone down, so suddenly 
in wondrous wise I was ware of a proces- 
sion. The whole city of rich device was sud- 
denly full without any summons of such 
virgins, clad in the same guise, as was my 
blissful one in her crown ; and crowned were 
they all in the same fashion, adorned with 
pearls and white weeds; on each one's breast 
was bounden fair the blissful pearl with 
great ^ delight. 

93. With great delight they glided to- 
gether in the golden streets that gleamed 
as glass; himdreds of thousands I wot there 
were, and all of a suit were their liveries, — 
hard to know who had the gladdest mien. 
The Lamb proudly passed before, with his 
seven horns of clear red gold. Like pre- 
cious pearls were his weeds. Toward the 
throne they go in company. Though they 
were many, no press ensued; but mild as 
modest maidens at mass, so passed they 
forth with great delight. 

94. The delight that his coming inspired, 
too great were it to tell of. The elders, 
when he approached, fell prone at his feet. 
Legions of angels, gathered together, there 
cast incense of sweet smell. Then glory and 
glee were broached anew; and all sang for 
love of that fair Jewel; that sound might 
strike through the earth to hell, that the Vir- 
tues of heaven for joy gave forth. To love 
the Lamb in the midst of his troop I caught 
indeed a great delight. 

95. Delight to describe the Lamb mar- 
vellously seized my mind. He was best, 
blithest, and most to prize, that ever I heard 
mentioned; so beauteous white were his 
weeds, his looks so simple, himself so cour- 
teous. But a wound full wide and wet 
showed near his heart, through the rent 
skin, and from his white side his blood 

8 Text freuch, of uncertain meaning. 

* Reading doubtful. Possibly "without delay," a 
rime-tag something like boun translated "fair" in the 
same sentence. 



THE PEARL 



sprang forth. Alas ! thought I, who com- 
iiiitted that crime ? Any breast ought to 
have shrivelled for sorrow ere it had taken 
delight in such a deed. 

96. The Lamb's delight none needed to 
doubt; that^ he was hurt and had a wound, 
in his bearing was never apparent, so glori- 
ous glad were his glances. I looked among 
his fair troop, beholding how they were 
filled with life, and there I saw my little 
queen, that I weened had stood by me in 
the glade. Lord, much mirth was it she 
made among her mates that were so white! 
That sight made me think of wading over 
in the delight of my love-longing. 

XX 

97. Delight drove me in eye and ear; my 
man's mind melted to madness; when I saw 
my lovely one, I would be there, though she 
were withdrawn beyond the water. I 
thought that nothing could frighten me, 
shake my resolution, or give me pause ; and 
to start into the stream should none hinder 
me, to swim the space, though I drowned 
there. But from that design I was deterred. 
When I was about to start astray into the 
stream I was recalled from that plan; it 
was not my Prince's pleasure. 

98. It pleased him not that I so pressed 
over marvellous meres in mad intent; though 
I was rash and rude in my haste, yet I was 
quickly restrained; for, right as I rushed 
to the bank, that very violence snatched me 
out of my dream. Then I wakened in that 
fair garden, my head laid upon the hill 
where my pearl fell to ground. I stretched 

I Emending the MS. pas to pat. 



and fell into a great fright; and sighing to 
myself I said, " Now may all be to that 
Prince's pleasure." 

99. Yet it pleasured me ill to be outcast 
so suddenly from that fair region, from all 
those sights so beauteous and bright. A 
heavy longing struck me into a swoon, and 
ruefully then I began to cry : " O pearl," 
quoth I, " of great renown, it was dear to 
me, that which thou didst teach in this true 
vision." If it be a true and soothfast speech, 
that thou so roamest in garland gay, then 
well is me in this dungeon of grief, that 
thou art dear to that Prince. 

100. Had I aye inclined to that Prince's 
favour, and yearned for no more than was 
given to me, and held me there in true in- 
tent, as the pearl prayed me that was so 
advanced — as sooner drawn to God's pres- 
ence — to more of his mysteries had I been 
led. But ever would man seize more of for- 
tune than may by right cleave to him; 
therefore my joy was soon taken away, and 
I cast from the comitry that lasts for aye. 
Lord, mad they are that strive against thee, 
or proffer thee aught agamst thy pleasure. 

101. To please the Prince or gain his 
peace is full easy for the good Christian,' 
for I have found him both day and night, 
a God, a Lord, a Friend full fine. On this 
mound this fortune I experienced, bowed 
down with pity for my pearl; and after- 
wards I betook it to God, in the dear joy 
and memory of Christ, whom, in the form 
of bread and wine, the priest shows us every 
day. May he grant us to be his lowly serv- 
ants, and precious pearls unto his pleasure. 

Amen. Amen. 



SYR GAWAYN AND THE GRENE KNYJTi 

[FYTTE THE FIRST] 

I 

Si]?en2 j,e sggg ^ jjg assaut wat^ sesed at Troye, 
J>e bor^ brittened & breut to bronde^ & aske^, 
pe tulk J?at J?e trammes of tresoun per wro^t, 
Wat^ tried for his tricherie, ]>e trewest on erthe ; 
Hit wat^ Ennias J^e athel, & his highe kynde, 
l?at si]?en depreced prouinces,^ & patrounes bicome 
Welne3e of al J?e wele in fe west iles, 
Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hjm swy]?e, 
With gret bobbaunce J?at bur^e he biges vpon fyrst, 
& neuenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat ; 
Ticius (turnes) to Tuskan, & teldes bigynnes ; 
Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes vp homes ; 
& fer ouer pe French flod Felix Brutus 
On mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayu he settej, 
wyth Wynne ;* 

Where werre, & wrake, & wonder, 

Bi sype^ hat^ wont l>er-inne, 

& oft bojje blysse & blunder 

Ful skete hat^ skyf ted synne. 

II 

Ande quen^ J>is Bretayn wat^ bigged bi Jjis bum rych, 
Belde bredden ]?er-inue, baret ]?at lofden, 
In mony turned^ tyme tene J^at wro^ten ; 
Mo ferlyes on }>is folde han fallen here oft 
en in any oper }?at I wot, syn Jjat ilk tyme. 
ot of alle l>at here bult of Bietaygne kynges 
Ay wat^ Arthur J?e hendest, as I haf herde telle ; 
For-]?i an aunter in erde I attle to schawe, 
]7at a selly in si^t summe men hit holden, 
& an outtrage awenture of Arthure^ wondere^, 
If ^e wyl lysten ]?is laye bot on littel quile, 
I schal telle hit, as-tit, as I in toun herde, 
with tonge ; 

As hit is stad & stoken, 

In stori stif & stronge, 

With lei letteres loken,® 

In londe so hat^ ben longe. 

1 The symbol 5 is the Anglo-Saxon form of r;, and is a modification of the Latin letter. It was retained by later 
scribes principally for the guttural gh as in kny^t, for the ?/-sound at the beginning of a word, as in yt, and for the 
final s'-sound, as in oske-^. The spellings UY7/3, ^0/5 for u-ns and has are peculiar. 

2 ]? is the Anglo-Saxon symbol tov th, which lasted till the 15th century, and as ?/ till later — e.g., in ye — ike. 
It is the old rune " thorn." 3 ?< and v, originally the same symbol, are both written u. 

* These " bobs " especially, and the rhyming 4-line " wheel " at the end of the stanzas, are often almost mean- 
ingless, and difficult to translate. 5 The qu is the Northern way of wTiting Anglo-Saxon hic, our ich. 
8 Such " conceited," "precious " or far-fetched terms and tags are characteristic of the later alliterative verse. 



20 SYR GAWAYN AND THE GRENE KNY3T 



in 

l>is kyng lay at Camylot vpon kryst-mas»e, 
SWith mony luHych lorde, lede^ of ]?e best, 
Rekeuly of ]?e rounde table alle po rich bre]?er, 
With rych reuel oryjt, & rechles vnerpes; 
"per tou/'iieyed tulkes bi-tyme3 ful mony, 
Justed ful Jolild J^yse gyntyle kni^tes, 
SyJ?en kayred to pe court, caroles to make. 
For pev pe fest \vat3 ilyche ful fiften dayes 
With alle J^e mete & pe mir]?e pat men cou>>e a-vyse; 
Such glaumande gle glorious to here, 
Dere dyn vp-on day, dawisyng on ny^tes, 
Al wat3 hap upon he3e in halle^ & chambre^, 
With lorde^ & ladies, as leuest him J»03t; 
With all pe wele of J^e worlde J^ay woned per samen, 
J>e most kyd kny3tes vnder krystes seluen, 
& pe louelokkest ladies J^at euer lif haden, 
& he pe comlokest kyng ]?at pe court haldes; 
For al wat3 fis fayre folk in her first age, 
on sille; 

le hapnest vnder heuen, 

Kyng hy^est raon of wylle, 

Hit were now gret nye to neuen 

So hardy a here on hille. 

IV 

Wyle nw ^er wat^ so ^ep ]?at hit wat nwe cummen, 
J>at day doubble on J^e dece wat^ pe douth serued, 
Fro pe kyng \vat3 cummen with kn3tes in to pe halle, 
J>e chauntre of pe chapel cheued to an ende; 
Loude crye wat3 per kest of clerke3 & o]?er, 
Nowel nayted o-newe, neuened ful ofte; 
& sypen riche forth runnen to reche honde-selle, 
3e3ed 3eres 3iftes on hi3, 3elde hem bi hond, 
Debated busyly aboute }?o giftes; 
Ladies la3ed ful loude, f>o psiy lost haden, 
& he ]7at wan wat3 not worth, pat may 36 wel trawe. 
Alle }?is mir]7e }?ay maden to pe mete tyme; 
When J?ay had waschen, worpjlj J?ay wenten to sete, 
J?e best burne ay abof, as hit best semed; 
Whene Guenore ful gay, grajped in pe myddes, 
Dressed on pe dere des, dubbed al aboute, 
Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir ouer 
Of tryed Tolouse, of Tars tapites in-noghe, 
J>at were enbrawded & beten wyth pe best gemmes, 
J>at iny3t be preued of prys wyth penyes to buy, 
in daye; 

])e comlokest to discrye, 

J)er glent with y3en gray; 

A semloker ]7at euer he syje, 

Soth mo3t no mon say. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



FYTTE THE FIRST 

1. After the siege and the assault had 
ceased at Troy, the city been destroyed 
and burned to brands and ashes, the warrior 
who wrought there the trains of treason 
was tried for his treachery, the truest on 
earth.i This was Aeneas the noble; he and 
his high kindred afterwards conquered 
provinces, and became patrons of well nigh 
all the wealth in the West Isles, As soon 
as rich Romulus turns him to Rome, with 
great pride he at once builds that city, and 
names it with his own name, which it now 
has; Ticius turns to Tuscany and founds 
dwellings ; Longobard raises homes in Lom- 
bardy ; and, far over the French flood, Felix 
Brutus establishes Britain joyfully on many 
broad banks, where war and waste and 
wonders by turns have since dwelt, and 
many a swift iuterchange of bliss and woe. 

2. And when this Britain was founded by 
this great hero, bold men loving strife bred 
therein, and many a time they wrought 
destruction. More strange things have hap- 
pened in this land since these days than in 
any other that I know; but of all the Brit- 
ish kings that built here, Arthur was ever 
the most courteous, as I have heard tell. 
Therefore, I mean to tell of an adventure 
in the world, which some count strange and 
extraordinary even among the wonders of 
Arthur. If ye will listen to this lay but a 
little while, I will tell it forthright as I 
heard it told in town, as it is set down in 
story that cannot be changed, long written 
in the land in true words. 

3. This King lay royally at Camelot at 
Christmas tide with many fine lords, the 
best of men, all the rich brethren of the 
Round Table, with right rich revel and 
careless mirth. There full many heroes 

1 Construction clear, though sense odd. Antenorand 
Aeneas were the traitors who in the mediseval story of 
Troy handed over the city to the Greeks. Antenor re- 
mained unpopular, but Aeneas suffered no loss of repu- 
tation. See Lydgate's Troy Book in the publications of 
the Early English Text Soc, Bk. IV, 1. 4539 f. 



tourneyed betimes, jousted full gaily; 
then returned these gentle knights to the 
court to make carols. ^ For there the feast 
was held full fifteen days alike with all 
the meat and the mirth that men could de- 
vise. Such a merry tumult, glorious to hear ; 
joyful din by day, dancing at night. All 
was high joy in halls and chambers with 
lords and ladies as pleased them best. With 
all the weal in the world they dwelt there 
together, the most famous knights save only 
Christ, the loveliest ladies that ever had 
life, and he, the comeliest of kings, who 
holds the court. For all this fair company 
were in their prime in the hall, the happiest 
troop under heaven with the proudest of 
kings. Tridy it would be hard to name any- 
where so brave a band. 

4. When Nevv Year was fresh and but 
newly come, the court was served double on 
the dais. As soon as the kingwith his knights 
was come into the hall, the chanting in the 
chapel came to an end; loud was the cry 
there of clerks and others. Noel was cele- 
brated anew, shouted full often; and after- 
wards the great ones ran about to take 
handsel;^ called aloud for New Year's 
gifts, paid them out briskly, busily dis- 
cussed the gifts; ladies laughed full loud, 
though they had lost; and he that won was 
not wroth, that may ye well trow. All this 
mirth they made till the meat time. When 
they had washed, worthily they went to 
their seats, the best man ever above, as it 
best behoved. Queen Guinevere full beau- 
teous was set in the midst, placed on the 
rich dais adorned all about. Fine silk at the 
sides, a canopy over her of precious cloth 
of Toulouse, and tapestries of Tars,* that 
were embroidered and set with the best 
gems that money could buy. Truly no man 
could say that he ever beheld a comelier 
lady than she, with her dancing gray eyes. 

5. But Arthur would not eat till all were 

2 Dancing and singing in a ring. 

3 New Year's gifts of good omen. 
* Oriental figured stuff. 



22 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



served. He was so merry in his mirth, atid 
somewhat childlike in his manner; his life 
pleased him well; he loved little either to 
lie long or to sit long, so busied him his 
young blood and his wild brain. And an- 
other custom moved him also, that he 
through chivalry had taken up; lie would 
never eat upon such a dear day before he 
was told an uncouth tale of some adventur- 
ous thing, of some great marvel that he 
could believe, of ancient heroes, of arms, or 
of other adventures; or unless some person 
demanded of him a sure knight to join with 
him in joustiug, to incur peril, to risk life 
against life, trusting each in the other, leav- 
ing the victory to fortune. This was the 
king's custom whenever he held court at 
each goodly feast among his free company 
in the hall. And so with undaimted face he 
strides stoutly to his seat on that New Year, 
making great miirth with everybody. 

6. Thus the great king stands waiting be- 
fore the high table, talking of trifles full 
courteously. The good Gawain was placed 
there beside Guinevere, and Agravaiu of 
the Hard Hand sat on the other side, both 
of them the king's sister's sons and full sure 
knights. Bishop Baldwin at the top begins 
the table, and Ywain, Urien's son, ate by 
himself. These were placed on the dais and 
honorably served, and after them many a 
good man at the side tables. Then the 
first course came in with blare of trumpets, 
which were hung with many a bright ban- 
ner. A new noise of kettle-drums wdth the 
noble pipes, wild and stirring melodies wak- 
ened the echoes; that many a heart heaved 
full high at their tones. Dainties of precious 
meats followed, foison of fresh viands, and 
on so many dishes that it was difficult to 
find place before the people to set on the 
cloth the silver that held the several courses. 
Each man as he himself preferred partook 
without hesitation. Every two ^ had twelve 
dishes between them, good beer and bright 
wine both. 

7. Now will I tell you no more of their 
service, for everybody must well under- 
stand that there was no lack of opportunity 
for the people to take their food.^ Another 

1 It was extremely sumptuous having only two at a 
mess; i. e. onlj-two sharing the same cup and platter. 

2 It seems to make somewhat better sense if we trans- 
pose, as has here been done, lines 132 and 133; other- 
wise this passage means that a second course came in 
heralded by new music. 



noise full new suddenly drew nigh, for 
scarcely had the nmsic ceased a moment, 
and the first course been properly served in 
the court, than there burst in at the hall 
door an awesome being, in height one of the 
tallest men in the world; from the neck to 
the waist so square and so thick w^as he, and 
his loins and his limbs so long and so great, 
that half giant I believed him to have been, 
or, at any rate, the largest of men, and 
withal the handsomest in spite of his bulk, 
that ever rode; for though his back and 
breast were so vast, yet his belly and waist 
w^ere properly slim ; and all his form accord- 
ing, full fairly shaped. At the hue of his 
noble face men wondered; he carried him- 
self in hostile fashion and was entirely 
green. 

8. All green was this man and his cloth- 
ing; a straight coat sat tight to his sides; a 
fair mantle above, adorned within; the lin- 
ing showed, with costly trimming of shining 
white fur; and such his hood also, that was 
caught back from his locks and lay on his 
shoulders, the hem well stretched; ^ hose of 
the same green, that clung to his calf; and 
clean spurs under, of bright gold upon silk 
bands richly barred,and shoes"* on his shanks 
as the hero rides. And all his vesture ver- 
ily was clean verdure, both the bars of his 
belt, and the other beauteous stones that 
were set in fine array about himself and his 
saddle, worked on silk. It would be too 
difficult to tell the half of the trifles that 
were embroidered there, with birds and 
flies, with gay* gauds of green, — the gold 
ever in the middle; the pendants of the 
poitrel, the proud crupper, the bits, — and 
all the metal was enamelled; the stirrups 
that he stood on were coloured the same, and 
his saddle bow likewise, and his fine reins ^ 
that glimmered and glinted all of green 
stones. The horse that he rode on was of 
the same colour too, a green horse, great and 
thick, a steed full stiff to guide, in gay em- 
broidered bridle, and one right dear to his 
master. 

9. This hero was splendidly dressed in 
green; and the hair of his head matched that 
of his horse ;^ fair flowing locks enfolded 
his shoulders; a beard as big as a bush hung 

3 Translation doubtful. < Word doubtful. 

5 Our "reins" is a mere stop-gap. The MS. has the 
puzzling sturtes. 

6 Translating hors swete of the MS. as " horse's 
suite." 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



23 



over his breast; and it, together with his 
splendid hair that reached from his head, 
was trimmed evenly all round above his 
elbows, so that half his arms were caught 
thereunder in the manner of a king's hood,^ 
that covers his neck. The mane of that great 
horse was much like it, very curly and 
combed, with knots full many folded in with 
gold wire about the fair green, — always 
one knot of the hair, another of gold. The 
tail and the forelock were twined in the 
same way, and both bound with a band of 
bright green, set with full precious stones 
the whole length of the dock, and then tied 
up with a thong in a tight knot; where rang 
many bells full bright of burnished gold. 
Such a steed in the world, such a hero as 
rides him, was never beheld in that hall be- 
fore that time. His glances were like bright 
lightning, so said a^ that saw him. It 
seemed as if no man could endure under his 
blows. 

10. He MfcB^ther helm nor hauberk, 
nor gorget^armour nor breastplate, nor 
shaft nor shield to guard or to smite ; but 
in his one hand he had a holly twig, that is 
greenest when groves are bare, and an axe 
in his other, a huge and prodigious one, a 
weapon merciless almost beyond descrip- 
tion; the head had the vast length of an ell- 
yard, the blade all of green steel and of 
beaten gold; the bit^ brightly burnished, 
with a broad edge, as well shaped for cut- 
ting as sharp razors. The stern warrior 
gripped it by ^ the steel of its stout staff, 
which was wound with iron to the end of 
the wood and all engraven with green in 
beauteous work. A lace jwas lapped about 
it, that was fastened at the head, and tied 
up often along the helve, with many pre- 
cious tassels attached on rich embroidered 
buttons of the bright green. This hero turns 
him in and enters the hall, riding straight 
to the high dais, fearless of mischief. He 
greeted never a one, but looked loftily 
about, and the first word that he uttered 
was: "Where is the governor of this com- 
pany ? Gladly I would see that hero and 
speak with him." 

He cast his eye on the knights and rode 

1 The word capados here translated "hood" is 
rare. It might conceivably mean " camail," a protec- 
tion of mail for the neck and part of the head, that 
hung down from or under the helm. 
, 2 " Bit " is still used for the cutting edge of an axe. 

8 Not in the MS. 



fiercely up and down, stopped and gan pon- 
der who was there the most renowned. 

11. All gazed fixedly on the man, for 
everybody marvelled what it might mean, 
that a knight and a horse could have such 
a colour: as green grown as the grass, and 
greener, it seemed; shining brighter than 
green enamel on gold. All were amazed who 
stood there, and stalked nearer to him, with 
all the wonder in the world what he would 
do; for many marvels had they seen, but 
such never before. Therefore for phantom 
and faery the folk there deemed it; and for 
that reason many a noble warrior was slow 
to answer, and all were astonished at his 
voice and sat stone still in a deep silence 
through the rich hall. Their voices '^ sank as 
though they had suddenly fallen asleep. 1 
deen!^B^ever, that it was not all for fear, 
but sonBp^hat for courtesy. But now let 
him to wMm all defer undertake the wight. 

12. ThW Arthur before the high dais 
beheld that adventure, and saluted the 
stranger properly, for never was he afraid, 
and said, "Sir, welcome indeed to this 
place. I am called Arthur, the head of this 
hostel. Light courteously down and tarry, 
I pray thee; and whatso thy will is we 
shall wit after." 

" Nay, so help me he that sits on high," 
quoth tlie hero. " To dwell any time in 
this house was not my errand; but because 
the fame of this people is lifted up so high, 
and thy town and thy men are held the best, 
the stoutest in steel gear on steeds to ride, 
the wightestand the worthiest of the world's 
kind, and proved opponents in other proper 
sports; and here courtesy is known, as I 
have heard tell, — it is this that has enticed 
me hither certainly at this time. You may 
be sure by this branch that I bear here that 
I pass in peace and seek no quarrel; for if I 
had set out with a company in fighting fash- 
ion, I have a hauberk at home and a helm 
both, a shield and a sharp spear shining 
bright, and other weapons to wield, I ween 
well also; but since I wished no war, my 
weeds are softer. Now if thou be as bold as 
all men tell, thou wilt grant me graciously 
the game that I ask." 

Arthur knew how to answer, and said: 
" Sir courteous knight, if it is battle that 
thou cravest, thou shalt not fail of a fight 
here." 

4 Possibly "faces" or "looks." 



24 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



13. " Nay, I demand no fight; in faith I 
tell thee there are but beardless children 
about on this bench. If I were hasped in 
arms on a high steed there is no man here 
to match me, their might is so weak. There- 
fore I crave in this court a Christmas game, 
for it is Yule aud New Year, and here are 
many gallants. If there be a man in this 
house who holds himself so hardy, is so 
bold in his blood, so rash in his head, that 
he dares stiffly strike one stroke for an- 
other, I shall give him as my gift this rich 
gisarm, this axe, that is heavy enough, to 
handle as he likes; and I shall abide the 
first blow as bare as I sit. If any warrior 
be wight enough to try what I propose, let 
him leap lightly to me and take this weapon 
— I quit-claim it forever, let him keep it 
as his own — and I shall stand him a stroke 
firmly on this floor. At another time, by our 
Lady, thou wilt grant me the boon of deal- 
ing him another blow; I will give him re- 
spite of a twelvemonth and a day. Now hie, 
and let us see quickly if any herein dare 
say aught." 

14. If he had astonished them at first, 
stiller were then all the retainers in hall, 
the high and the low. The warrior on his 
steed settled himself in his saddle, and 
fiercely his red eyes he reeled about ; bent 
liis thick brows, shining green ; and waved 
his beard, awaiting whoso would rise. When 
none would answer him he coughed aloud, 
stretched himself haughtily and began to 
speak; "What! Is this Arthur's house," 
said the hero then, " that is famous through 
so many realms? Where is now your pride 
and your conquests, your fierceness, and 
your wrath and your great words ? Now is 
the revel and the renown of the Round 
Table overcome by the word of a single 
man; for all tremble for dread without a 
blow shown." 

With this he laughed so loud that the 
lord grieved ; the blood shot for shame into 
his fair face. He waxed as wroth as the wind; 
and so did all that were there. The king so 
keen of mood then stood near that proud 
man. 

15. " Sir," said he, " by heaven thy asking 
is foolish ; and as thou hast demanded folly, 
it behooves thee to find it. I know no man 
that is aghast of thy great words. Give me 
now thy gisarm, for God's sake, and I will 
grant thy boon that thou hast bidden." 



Quickly he leaped to him and caught at 
his hand ; and the other alights fiercely on 
foot. Now Arthur has his axe, and grips 
the helve; he whirls it sternly about as if 
he meant to strike with it. The bold stran- 
ger stood upright before him, higher than 
any in the house by a head and more; with 
stern cheer he stood there, stroked his 
beard, and with cool countenance drew 
down his coat, no more afraid or dismayed 
for Arthur's great strokes than if some one 
had brought him a drink of wine upon the 
bench. 

Gawain, that sat by the queen, turned to 
the king: " I beseech now with all courtesy 
that this affair might be mine." 

16. " Would ye, worthy lord," quoth 
Gawain to the king, " bid me step from 
this bench and stand by you there, — that I 
without rudeness might leave this table, 
and that my liege lady liked it not ill — I 
would come to your help before your rich 
court; for methinks it is obviously unseemly 
that such an asking is made so much of in 
your hall, even though ye yourself be will- 
ing to take it upon you, while so many bold 
ones sit about you on the bench ; than whom, 
I ween, none under heaven are higher of 
spirit, nor more mighty on the field where 
strife is reared. I am the weakest, I know, 
and feeblest of wit; and to tell the truth 
there would be the least loss in my life. I 
am only to praise forasmuch as ye are my 
uncle; no other nobility than your blood 
know I in my body. And since this adven- 
ture is so foolish, it belongs not to you; I 
have asked it of you first ; give it to me. 
Let this great court decide ^ if I have not 
spoken well." 

The heroes took counsel together and 
they all gave the same advice, — to free 
the crowned king and give the game to 
Gawain. 

17. Then the king commanded Gawain 
to rise from the table; and he right quickly 
stood up and made himself ready, kneeled 
down before the king and took the w^eapon; 
and Arthur lovingly left it to him, lifted up 
his hand and gave him God's blessing, and 
gladly bade him be hardy both of heart and 
of hand. " Take care, cousin," quoth the 
king, "that thou give him a cut; and if 
thou handle him properly, I readily believe 

1 This word is supplied. Perhaps " speak " would be 
more conservative. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



25 



that thou shalt endure the blow which he 
shall give after." 

Grawain goes to the man with gisarm in 
hand; and he boldly awaits him, shrinking 
never a whit. Then speaks to Sir Gawain 
the knight in the green ; " Rehearse we our 
agreement before we go farther. First I 
conjure thee, hero, how thou art called, 
that thou tell me it truly, so that I may 
believe it." 

"In good faith," quoth the knight, 
"Gawain am I called, who give you this 
buffet, whatever befalls after; and at this 
time twelvemonth I am to take from thee 
another with whatever weapon thou wilt, 
and from no wight else alive." 

The other answers again, " Sir Gawain, 
so thrive I as I am heartily glad that thou 
shalt give this blow." 

18. " By Gog," quoth the green knight, 
" Sir Gawain, it deliglits me that I am to 
get at thy fist what I have requested here; 
and thou hast readily and truly rehearsed 
the whole of the covenant that I asked of 
the king, save that thou shalt assure me, 
sir, by thy troth, that thou wilt seek me 
thyself wheresoever thou thinkest I may 
be found upon the earth, and fetch for thy- 
self such wages as thou dealest me today 
before this rich company." 

" Where should I seek thee ? " quoth 
Gawain. "Where is thy place? I know 
never where thou livest, by him that 
wrought me; nor do I know thee, knight, 
thy court, nor thy name. But tell me truly 
the way and how thou art called, and I will 
use all my wit to win my way thither, — 
and that I swear thee, for a sooth, and by my 
sure troth." 

" New Year will suffice for that ; no more 
is needed now," quoth the man in green to 
Gawain the courteous. " To tell the truth, 
after I have received thy tap, and thou hast 
smitten me well, I shall promptly inform 
thee of my house and my home and mine 
own name. Then thou mayest inquire about 
my journey and hold promise ; and if I speak 
no speech, then thou speedest the better, for 
thou mayest linger at ease in thy land and 
seek no further. Take now thy grim tool to 
thee and let us see how thou knockest." 

" Gladly, sir, for sooth," quoth Gawain as 
he strokes his axe. 

19. The green knight on the ground pre- 
pared himself properly. With the head a 



little bowed he disclosed the flesh. His long, 
lovely locks he laid over his crown, and let 
the naked nape of his neck show for the 
blow. Gawain gripped his axe and gathered 
it on high; the left foot he set before on 
the ground, and let the axe light smartly 
down on the naked flesh,^ so that the sharp 
edge severed the giant's bones, and shrank 
through the clear flesh ^ and sheared it in 
twain, till the edge of the brown steel bit 
into the ground. The fair head fell from 
the neck to the earth, and many pushed it 
with their feet where it rolled forth. The 
blood burst from the body and glistened 
on the green. Yet never faltered nor fell 
the hero for all that ; but stoutly he started 
up with firm steps, and fiercely he rushed 
forth where the heroes stood, caught his 
lovely head, and lifted it up straightway. 
Then he turned to his steed, seized the bri- 
dle, stepped into the steel bow and strode 
aloft, holding the head in his hand by the 
hair; and as soberly the man sat in his sad- 
dle as if no mishap had ailed him, though 
he was headless on the spot. He turned his 
trimk about — that ugh^ body that bled. 
Many a one of them thought that he had 
lost his reason. 

20. For he held the head straight up in 
his hand; turned the face toward the highest 
on the dais; and it lifted up the eyelids and 
looked straight out, and spoke thus much 
with its mouth, as ye may now hear: — 
" Look Gawain, that thou be ready to go 
as thou hast promised, and seek loyally, 
hero, till thou find me; as thou hast prom- 
ised in this hall in the hearing of these 
knights. To the green chapel go thou, I 
charge thee, to receive such a blow as thou 
hast dealt. Thou deservest to be promptly 
paid on New Year's morn.^ As the knight 
of the green chapel many men know me; 
therefore, if thou strivest to find me, thou 
shalt never fail. And so come, or it be- 
hooves thee to be called recreant." 

With a wild rush he turned the reins, 
and flew out at the hall door — his head in 
his hand — so that the fire of the flint flew 
from the foal's hoofs. To what country he 
vanished knew none there; no more than 
the}' wist whence he was come. The king 
and Gawain roared with laughter at that 

1 Some such word has to be supplied after naked. 

2 "Grease " in the original. 

3 Morris's punctuation of this passage has been 
altered. 



26 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



green man; but this adventure was reck- 
oned a marvel among men. 

21. Though the courteous king wondered 
in his heart, he let no semblance be seen, 
but said aloud to the comely queen with 
courteous speech, " Dear dame, today be 
never dismayed ; well becoming are such 
tricks at Christmas, in lack of entertain- 
ment, to laugh and sing about among these 
pleasant carols of knights and ladies. Never- 
theless I may well go to my meat, for I can 
not deny that I have seen a marvel." He 
glanced at Sir Gawain and said cheerfully, 
"Now, sir, hang up thine axe; it has hewn 
enough." And it was put above the dais to 
hang on the tapestry where all men might 
marvel at it, and by it avouch the wonder- 
ful happening. Then they turned to the 
board, these heroes together — the king and 
the good knight — and the keen men served 
them double of all dainties, as was most 
fitting; with all manner of meat, and min- 
strels}' both. They spent that day iu joy 
until it came to an end. Now take care. 
Sir Gawain, that thou blench not for the 
pain to prosecute this adventure that thou 
bast taken on hand. 



FYTTE THE SECOND 

1. This hansel of adventures had Arthur 
at the beginning, in the young year, since he 
yearned to hear boasting. Although there 
was little news when they went to their 
seats, now they are provided with stern 
workji their hands quite full. Gawain was 
glad to begin those games in the hall; but 
it would not be surprising if the end were 
heavy; for though men be merry in mind 
when they have much drink, yet a year runs 
full swiftly, and yields never the same ; the 
beginning full seldom matches the end. And 
so this Yule went by, and the year after it, 
each season iu turn following the other. 
After Christmas came the crabbed Lent, that 
tries the flesh with fish and more simple 
food. But then the weather of the world 
quarrels with winter, and though the cold 
still clings, the clouds lift; copiously de- 
scends the rain in warm showers, and falls 
upon the fair earth. Flowers show there; 
green are the garments both of fields and of 
groves; birds hurry to build, and lustily 

1 Morris's punctuation of this passage lias been 
changed. 



they sing for the solace of the soft summer, 
that follows thereafter. Blossoms swell into 
bloom in rows rich and rank; and lovely 
notes are heard in the beauteous wood. 

2. After the season of summer with the 
soft winds, when Zephyrus blows on seeds 
and herbs, happy is the plant that waxes 
then, when the dank dew drops from the 
leaves, to await the blissful glance of the 
bright sun. But then harvest hastens and 
hardens it soon: warns it to wax full ripe 
against the winter. He drives with drought 
the dust to rise, — from the face of the earth 
to fly full high. The wild wind of the wel- 
kin wrestles with the sun. The leaves fall 
from the bough and light on the ground. 
The grass becomes all gray that erst was 
green. Then all ripes and rots that which 
formerly flourished; and thus runs the^'ear 
in yesterdays many; and winter returns 
again without asking any man,^ till the 
Michelmas moon has come in wintry wise. 
Then thinks Gawain full soon of his anxious 
voyage. 

3. Yet till Allhallows day with Arthur 
he lingers ; and Arthur made a feast on that 
festival for the hero's sake, with great and 
gay revel of the Round Table. Knights fidl 
courteous and comely ladies all for love of 
that man were iu sorrow; but nevertheless 
they spoke only of mirth; and many a joy- 
less one there made jests for his gentle sake. 
After meat he mournfully addresses his 
uncle, and speaks of his passage, and openly 
he says — " Now, liege lord of my life, leave 
I ask of you. Ye know the cost of this 
case; I do not care to tell you even a trifle 
of its dangers; ^ but I am ready to start for 
the fray no later than tomorrow morn, to 
seek the man in the green, as God will 
guide me." 

Then the best of the castle gathered to- 
gether, Ywain and Erec, and others full 
many, Sir Dodinel de Sauvage, the Duke 
of Clarence, Lancelot and Lyonel and Lucan 
the Good, Sir Bors and Sir Bedever, big 
men both, and many other proud ones, with 
Mador de la Port. All this company of the 
court came nearer to the king, to counsel 
the knight, with care at their hearts. There 
was much deep grief felt in the hall that 
so worthy a one as Gawain should go on 
that errand, to endure a sorry dint and 

2 Passage a bit vague. 

s Morris's punctuation altered. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



27 



deal none himself with his brand. But the 
knight ever made good cheer, and said, 
" Why should I swerve from stern and 
strange destiny ? What can a man do but 
try?" 

4. He lingered there all that day, and on 
the morn made ready. Early he asked for 
his arms, and they were all brought. First 
a carpet of Toulouse was stretched over the 
floor, and much was the gilt gear that 
gleamed upon it. The brave man stepped 
thereon and handled the steel, clad in a 
doublet of costly Tars, and afterwards a 
well wrought hood, closed on top and bound 
within with a glistening white fur. Then 
they put the sabatons^ upon the hero's feet, 
lapped his legs in steel with fair greaves, to 
which were attached well polished poleynes^ 
fastened about his knees with knots of gold. 
Fine cuisses then, that well enclosed his 
thick, brawny thighs, they attached with 
thongs. Next the decorated burnie ^ of 
bright steel rings upon precious stuff encased 
the hero, and well burnished braces upon his 
two arms, with elbow-pieces goodly and gay 
and gloves of plate, and all the goodly gear 
that might avail him at that time, with rich 
coat armour, gold spurs well fastened, and 
a sure brand girt about his side by a silken 
sash. 

5. When he was hasped in arms his har- 
ness was rich; the least latchet or loop 
gleamed with gold. So, harnessed as he was, 
he heard his mass, offered and adored at 
the high altar. Then he came to the king 
and his court ; courteously took his leave of 
lords and ladies; and they kissed him, and 
convoyed him, entrusting him to Christ. By 
that time was Gringolet ready, and girt with 
a saddle that gleamed full gaily with many 
gold fringes; everywhere nailed anew, 
prepared for that emergenc5^ The bridle, 
barred about, was bound with bright gold; 
the decoration of the breastplate and of the 
fine housings, the crupper and caparison, 
accorded with the saddle-bow, and all was 
adorned with rich red gold nails, that glit- 
tered and gleamed like the gleam of the sun. 
Then he took the helm and quickly kissed 
it. It was stoutly stapled and stuffed within ; 
it was high on his head, hasped behind, with 
a light urison^ over the ventail,^ embroid- 
ered and bound with the best gems on a 

- 1 steel shoes. 2 knee pieces. 8 coat of mail. 

* scarf. 6 visor. 



broad silken border; and birds on the seams 
like painted popinjays ^ preening themselves 
here and there ; turtle-doves and true-loves'^ 
thickly interlaced. As many birds there 
were as had been in town for seven winters. 
The circlet that surrounded his crown was 
even more precious — a device of gleaming 
diamonds. 

6. Then they showed him the shield, that 
was of sheer gules, with the pentangle 
painted in pure gold. He took it by the 
baldric and cast it about his neck; and it 
became the hero passing fair. And why 
the pentangle pertains to that noble prince 
I mean to tell you, though it should delay 
me. It is a sign that Solomon set formerly 
as a token of truth, by its own right, for 
it is a figure that holds five points, and 
each line overlaps and locks in another; and 
throughout it is endless; and the English 
call it everywhere, as I hear, the endless 
knot. Therefore it suits this knight and his 
clear arms, forever faithful in five things, 
and in each of them five ways. Gawain was 
known for good and as refined gold, devoid 
of every villainy, adorned with virtues. 
Therefore, the new ^ pentangle he bore on 
shield and coat, as the man most true of 
speech and the knight gentlest of behaviour. 

7. First, he was found faultless in his five 
wits; and again the hero failed never in his 
five fingers; and all his affiance in this world 
was in the five wounds that Christ received 
on the cross, as the creed tells; and where- 
soever this man was hard bestead in the 
melde his pious thought was in this above 
all other things — to take all his strength 
from the five joys that the courteous Queen 
of Heaven had of her child. For this cause 
the knight had her image comely painted in 
the greater half of his shield, that when he 
looked down thereupon, his courage never 
abated. The fifth five that I find that the 
hero used, were generosity and fellowship 
above all things, his purity and his cour- 
tesy that never swerved, and pity that 
passes all qualities. These very five were 
more surely set upon that warrior than upon 
any other. Now all these ^ were est«,blished 
fivefold in this knight, and each one was 
fastened in another that had no end, and 
they were fastened on five points that never 
failed, nor met anywhere, nor sundered 



6 parrots. 

8 Should it be now f 



7 true lover's knots. 

» These five larger virtues. 



28 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



either, but finished always without end at 
each corner, wherever the game began or 
concluded. Therefore on his fair shield this 
knot was painted royally with red gold upon 
red gules. Tliat is the true pentangle as 
the people properly call it. Now was the 
gay Gawain armed. He caught up his lance 
right there, and with a good-day he went 
for evermore. 

8. He spurred his steed with the spurs 
and sprang on his way so swiftly that the 
stone struck out fire after him. All who 
saw the gentle man sighed in heart, and the 
heroes said all together to each other in their 
love for that comely knight, " By Christ, it 
is a shame that thou, hero, must be lost, who 
art so noble of life. In faith it is not easy 
to find his match upon the earth. To have 
acted more warily would have been better 
counsel; and to have made yon dear one a 
duke; it would well become him to be a 
brilliant leader of people here. This would 
have been better than to have him utterly 
destroyed, given over ^ to an elvish man for 
mere boasting pride. Who ever knew any 
king to take such counsel as to suffer knights 
to be so tricked for a Christmas game." Much 
warm water welled from eyes when that 
seemly sire departed from the dwellings 
that day. He made no stop, but wightly 
went his way; many a tiresome path he 
rode, as I heard the book tell. 

9. Now rides this hero. Sir Gawain, 
through the realm of Logres in God's be- 
half, though to him it seemed no play. Oft 
alone companionless he lodged at night in 
places where he found not before him the 
fare that he liked. No company had he but 
his foal by friths and downs, nor nobody 
but God to talk with by the way; till that 
he approached nigh unto North Wales. He 
kept all the isles of Anglesey on the left 
side, and fared over the fords by the fore- 
lands, over at the Holy Head, till he again 
took land in the wilderness of Wirrel. There 
dwelt but few that loved either God or man 
with good heart. And ever as he fared he 
asked of men that he met if they had heard 
any talk of a green knight of the green 
chapel in any spot thereabout, and all nicked 
him with nay, that never in their life saw they 
any man of such green hue. The knight took 
strange roads by many a rough bank. His 
cheer changed full oft ere he saw that chapel. 

1 The meaning of the verb is doubtful. 



10. Many a cliff he overclimbed in strange 
countries; far sundered from his friends, 
lonely he rode. At each ford or water 
where the hero passed it were strange if he 
found not a foe before him, and that so foul 
and so fell that it behooved him to fight. 
So many marvels in the mountains there the 
man found that it were too tedious to tell 
of the tenth part. Sometimes he warred 
with serpents, and with wolves also, some- 
times with savages that dwelt in the cliffs; 
both with bulls and bears, and boars some- 
times; and giants that assailed him from the 
high fell. Had he not been doughty and 
stern, and served God, doubtless he had been 
dead and slain full oft. But the warfare 
tried him not so much but that the winter 
was worse, when the cold clear water shed 
from the clouds, and froze ere it might fall 
to the barren earth. Near slain with the 
sleet he slept in his iron more nights than 
enough on naked rocks, where clattering 
from the crest the cold burn ran, and hung 
high over his head in hard icicles. Thus in 
peril and pain and plights full hard through 
the country wanders this knight all alone 
till Christmas Eve. At that tide to Mary 
he made his moan that she might direct h^ 
riding and lead him to some dwelling. 

11. Merrily on the morn he rides by a 
mount into a forest full deep, that was 
strangely wild. High hills were on each 
side, and woods beneath of hoar oaks full 
huge, a hundred together. The hazel and 
the hawthorn were twined all together, 
covered everywhere with rough ragged 
moss, with many unblithe birds upon bare 
twigs that piteously piped there for pain of 
the cold. The knight upon Gringolet rides 
all alone under the boughs, through many a 
moss and mire, mourning for his trials, lest 
he should never survive to see the service of 
that Sire who on that very night was born 
of a lady to quell our pain. And therefore 
sighing he said : " I beseech thee. Lord, and 
Mary, that is mildest mother so dear, for 
some harbour where I might properly hear 
mass and thy matins tomorrow. Meekly I 
ask it, and thereto earnestly I pray my pater 
and ave and creed." He rode in his prayer 
and lamented for his misdeeds. Oft-times 
he blessed himself, and said, " Christ's cross 
speed me." 

12. The hero had not crossed himself 
more than thrice ere he was aware in the 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



29 



wood of a dwelling on a hill, above a clear- 
ing, on a mount, hidden under the boughs 
of many a huge tree about the ditches; a 
castle the comeliest that ever knight owned, 
set on a prairie, a park all about, with its 
beautiful palace, pinnacled full thick, and 
surrounded with many a tree for more than 
two miles. The hero gazed at the castle on 
that one side as it shimmered and shone 
through the fair oaks. Then he humbly 
doffed his helm and devoutly he thanked 
Jesus and St. Julian — who are both gentle 
— who courteously had directed him and 
harkened to his cry. "Now bon hostel," 
quoth the man, "I beseech you yet ! " Then 
he spurs Griugolet with his gilt heels, and he 
full fortunately takes the way to the chief 
road, that soon brought the hero to the bridge- 
end in haste. The bridge was securely lifted, 
the gates locked fast ; the walls were well 
arrayed ; no wind blast did it fear. 

13. The hero that sat on his horse, abode 
on the bank of the deep double ditch that 
stretched to the place. The wall sank in the 
water wondrous deep, and again a full huge 
height it towered aloft, of hard hewn stone 
up to the top courses, corbelled under the 
battlement in the best manner ; and above 
fine watch-towers ranged along, with many 
good loop-holes that showed full clean. A 
better barbican that hero never looked upon. 
And farther within he beheld the high hall, 
with towers set full thickly about, and fair 
and wondrous high filioles with carved tops 
cunningly devised. Chalk-white chimneys 
enough he saw that gleamed full white on 
the battlements. So many painted pinnacles 
were set everywhere, built so thick among 
the crenellations of the castle, that it verily 
appeared cut out of paper. Fair enough it 
seemed to the noble knight on his horse if 
he could only attain the shelter within, to 
harbour in that hostel, while the holiday 
lasted. He called, and soon there appeared 
on the wall a right pleasant porter who took 
his message and greeted the knight errant. 

14. " Good sir," quoth Gawain, " would 
you go my errand to the high lord of this 
house to crave harbour ? " 

" Yea, by Peter," quoth the porter; " and 
truly I trow that ye are welcome, sir, to 
dwell while you like." 

Then the man went again quickly, and 
a crowd of folk with him, to receive the 
knight. They let down the great draw and 



eagerly poured out, and kneeled down on 
their knees upon the cold earth to welcome 
the hero as it seemed to them proper. They 
opened up wide the broad gate for him and 
he raised them courteously, and rode over 
the bridge. Several attendants held his 
saddle while he alighted, and afterwards 
good men enough stabled his steed. Then 
knights and squires came down to bring this 
hero joyfully into the hall. When he lifted 
up his helm people enough hurried to take 
it at his hand, in order to serve the courte- 
ous one ; his sword and his shield they took 
too. Then he greeted full courteously the 
knights each one; and many a proud man 
pressed there to honour that prince. All 
hasped in his high weeds, they led him to 
the hall, where a fair fire burned fiercely 
upon the hearth. Then the lord of the 
people came from his chamber to meet 
courteously the man on the floor. He said, 
" Ye are welcome to wield as you like what 
is here ; all is your own to have at your will 
and commandment." " Gramercy," quoth 
Gawain. " Christ reward you for it." Like 
glad heroes either folded the other in his 
arms. 

15. Gawain looked on the man who 
greeted him so goodly, and thought it a bold 
hero that owned the castle, a huge warrior 
for the nonce, and of great age. Broad and 
bright was his beard, and all beaver-hued. 
Firm-gaited was he on his stalwart limbs; 
with a face as fierce as fire, and a free speech; 
and to the hero he seemed well suited in- 
deed to govern a nation of good people. 

The lord turned to a chamber and 
promptly commanded to give Gawain a 
retimie to serve him in low^ly wise; and 
there were ready at his bidding men enough, 
who brought liim to a bright bovver where 
the bedding was curtains of pure silk with 
clear gold hems, and covertures right curi- 
ous with comely borders, adorned above 
with bright fur. Curtains running on ropes, 
red gold rings, tapestries of Toulouse and 
Tars hung on the wall, and under foot on 
the floor of the same pattern. There with 
mirthful speeches the hero was despoiled of 
his burnie and of his bright weeds. Quickly 
men brought him rich robes that he might 
pick and choose the best for his change. As 
soon as he took one and was wrapped therein, 
that sat upon him seemly with sailing skirts, 
the hero by his visage verily seemed to well 



30 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



nigh every man in looks glowing and lovely 
in all his limbs; it seemed to them that 
Christ never made a coraelier knight. Wher- 
ever in the world he were, it seemed as if 
he might be a prince without peer in the 
field where fell men fight. 

16. A chair before the chimney,^ where 
charcoal burned, was prepared for Sir Ga- 
wain richly with cloths and cushions, upon 
counterpanes that were both fine. And then 
a beauteous mantle was cast on the man, of a 
brown fabric richly embroidered, and fairly 
furred within with the best skins, all of 
ermine; the hood of the same. And he sat 
on that settle in seemly rich attire, and 
warmed him thoroughly; and then his cheer 
mended. Soon a table was raised up on 
trestles full fair, and set with a clean cloth 
that showed clear white, napkins, salt-cel- 
lar, and silver spoons. The hero washed 
when he would and went to his meat. Men 
served him seemly enough, — double fold 
as was proper — with pottages various and 
suitable, seasoned in the best manner; and 
many kinds of fish, some baked in bread, 
some broiled on the coals, some boiled, some 
in sauces savoured with spices; and always 
discourse so pleasant that it pleased the 
warrior. Full freely and often the hero 
called it a feast right courteously, when all 
the retainers together praised him as cour- 
teous.2 " Do this penance now, and soon 
things will be better ! " Right mirthful was 
he for the wine that went to his head. 

17. Then they questioned and inquired 
sparingly in skilful queries put to the prince 
himself, till he courteously acknowledged 
that he was of the court which noble 
Arthur holds alone, who is the rich, royal 
king of the Round Table; and that it was 
Gawain himself that sits in the house, by 
chance come for that Christmas. When the 
lord had learned that he had that hero, he 
laughed aloud, so dear it seemed to him; 
and all the men in the castle made much 
joy at appearing promptly in the presence 
of him who contains in his own person all 

1 In the old meaning of fireplace, fire-back, or grate. 

2 Possibly the host, and not Gawain, is the subject of 
this sentence, which then might be translated : "Full 
freely and oft the host called it a feast (i.e. made the 
feaster welcome) right courteously, when all the retain- 
ers praised him (Gawain or the host?) as courteous." 
In the next two sentences the host is pretty certainly 
the subject. With this interpretation cf . Macbeth, in, 4, 
33 : " The feast is sold that is not often vouoh'd, while 
'tis a-making, 'tis given with welcome." 



worth and prowess and gracious traits, and 
is ever praised; above all the men in the 
world his renown is the greatest. Each 
warrior said full softly to his companion — 
" Now shall we see courteous turns of be- 
haviour, and the blameless forms of noble 
talking; what profit there is in speech may 
we learn without askmg since we have taken 
that fine father of nurture. God has indeed 
given us his grace, who grants us to have 
such a guest as Gawain, on account of whose 
birth men sit and sing for joy. This hero 
will now teach us what distinguished man- 
ners are ; I think that those who hear him 
will learn how to make love." 

18. When the dinner was done and the 
dear ones risen, the time was nigh arrived 
at the night. Chaplains took their way to 
the chapels, and rang full loudly, as they 
should, to the melodious evensong of the high 
time. The lord turns thither, and the lady 
also. Into a comely closet daintily she enters. 
Gawain joyfully proceeds, and goes thither 
straightway. The lord takes him by the 
mantle and leads him to his seat, recognizes 
him openly and calls him by his name, and 
says he is the welcomest wight in the world. 
And Gawain thanked him thoroughly and 
either embraced the other, and they sat so- 
berly together ditring the service. Then the 
lady desired to look on the knight, and came 
from her closet with many fair maidens. 
But she was fairer than all the others in 
flesh and face, in skin and form, in com- 
plexion and demeanour — more beautiful 
than Guinevere, it seemed to the hero. He 
walked through the chancel to greet that 
gracious one. Another lady led her by the 
left hand, that was older than she ; an ancient 
lady it seemed, and one highly honoured 
by the knights about her; but unlike to look 
on were the ladies, for if the younger was 
fair, yellow was the other. Rich red on the 
one bloomed everywhere ; rough wrinkled 
cheeks rolled on the other. The kerchiefs 
of the one broidered with many clear pearls, 
openly displayed her breast and her bright 
throat, which shone clearer than snow that 
falls on the hills. The other covered her 
neck with a gorget, that wrapped her black 
chin in milk-white pleats. Her forehead 
was completely enveloped in silken folds, 
adorned and tricked ^ with small ornaments; 

s The precise, but not the general, meaning of the 
two participles is uncertain. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



31 



and naught was bare of that lady but the 
black brows, the two eyes, the nose, and the 
naked lips ; and those were ugly to behold 
and oddly bleared. A gracious lady in the 
land one might cull her forsooth ! Her body 
was short and thick, her hips round ^ and 
broad. More pleasant to look on was the 
being she led. 

19. "When Gawain looked on that beau- 
teous one who gazed graciously, he took 
leave of the lord, and went toward them. 
The elder he saluted, bowing full low; the 
lovelier he took a little in his arms; he 
kissed her comely, and knightly he greeted 
her. They welcomed him, and he quickly 
asked to be their servant if it pleased them. 
They took him between them and led him 
conversing to the fireplace in the parlour; 
and straightway they called for spices, 
which men speeded to bring them unspar- 
ingly, and the pleasant wine therewith each 
time. The lord leaped merrily up full often, 
and saw to it that the mirth never faltered. 
Gaily he snatched off his hood and hung it 
on a spear, and exhorted them to win it as 
a prize — he to have it ^ who could make 
the most mirth that Christmas tide. "And 
I shall try, by my faith, with the help of my 
friends 8 to compete with the best, ere I lose 
my apparel." Thus with laughing mien the 
lord makes merry in order to glad Sir 
Gawain with games in the hall that night. 
When it came time, the king commanded 
lights; Sir Gawain took his leave and went 
to his bed. 

20. On the morn when as every man 
knows God was born to die for us, joy 
waxes in every dwelling in the world for 
his sake. So it did there on that day, with 
many dainties at meats and meals, right 
quaint dishes, and brave men on the dais 
dressed in their best. The old ancient wife 
sits the highest, the courteous lord placed 
by her, as I trow; Gawain and the gay lady 
together just in the middle, as the courses'* 
properly come; and afterwards the rest 
throughout all the hall, as it seemed best 
to them, each man in his degree was prop- 
erly served. There was meat, there was 

1 The meaning of bay is doubtful. 

2 These four words supplied. 

s This phrase may go with "lose," thus aggravating 
the joke. 

^ This word {messe) can refer to the courses (the 
food), or to the "mess" (the two persons eating to- 
gether, i.e. using the same goblet, platter, etc.). 



mirth, there was much joy, that it were 
arduous for me to tell thereof, though to 
note it I took pains belike.^ But yet I know 
that Gawain and the lovely lady took com- 
fort in each other's company, in the choice 
play of their sharp wits, and the pure cour- 
tesy of their modest talk; their disport sur- 
passed indeed that of any royal game. 
Trumps and drums came playing loudly; 
each man minded his own business, and they 
two minded theirs. 

21. Much delight was taken there that 
day, and the second; and the third followed 
as pleasantly. The joy of St. John's day 
was gentle to hear of; and it was the last of 
the festival, the people considered. There 
were guests to go upon the grey morn; 
therefore wondrous late they sat up and 
drank the wine, danced full gayly with 
sweet carols. At the last, when it was late, 
they took their leave, each good man to 
wend on his way. Gawain gave his host 
good day; but the good man takes him, and 
leads him to his own chamber, by the fire- 
place; and there he draws him aside and 
properly thanks him for the great worship 
that he had granted him in honouring his 
house on that high tide, in embellishing his 
castle with his good cheer. " Indeed, sir, 
while I live I shall be the better that Gawain 
has been my guest at God's own feast." 

" Gramercy, sir," quoth Gawain, " in good 
faith the merit is yours; all the honour 
is your own, — the high King reward you; 
and I am your man to work your behest in 
high and in low as I am bound by right." 

The lord eagerly strives to hold the knight 
longer; but Gawain answers him that he 
can in no wise. 

22, Then the hero asked of him full 
fairly what extraordinary deed had driven 
him at that dear time from the king's court, 
to go all alone so boldly, ere the holidays 
were wholly over. 

"For sooth, sir," quoth the hero, "ye 
say but the truth; a high errand and a 
hasty had me from these dwellings; for I 
am summoned to such a place as I know 
not in the world whitherw^ard to wend to 
find it. I would not for all the land in 
Logres fail to reach it on New Year's morn 
— so our Lord help me. Therefore, sir, 

6 The clause literally translated is insignificant ; we 
expect something like " and yet I should fail for all my 
pains." 



32 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



this request I require of you here, that ye 
tell me truly if ever ye heard tale of the 
green chapel, where in the world it stands, 
and of the kuight green in colour that keeps 
it. There was established by statute an 
agreement between us that I should meet 
that man at that landmark if I could but 
survive. And of that same New Year there 
now lacks but little, and by God's Son I 
would gladlier look on that person — if 
God would let me — than wield any posses- 
sion in the world. Therefore, indeed — by 
your good will — it behooves me to wend; 
I have now at my disposal barely three 
days ; and I were as fain fall dead as fail of 
mine errand." 

Then laughing quoth the lord, "Now it 
behooves thee to stay ; for I shall direct you 
to that spot by the time's end — the green 
chapel upon the ground. Grieve you no 
more; for ye shall be in your bed, sir, at 
thine ease some days yet, and set out on 
the first of the year and come to that place 
at mid-morn, to do what you like. Stay till 
New Year's day; and rise and go then. 
One shall set you on your way; it is not 
two miles hence." 

23. Then was Gawain full glad, and 
merrily he laughed; "Now I thank you es- 
pecially for this above all other things ; now 
that my quest is achieved, I shall dwell 
at your will, and do whatever else ye de- 
cide." 

Then the sire seized him and set him be- 
side him, and let the ladies be fetched to 
please them the better. Fair entertainment 
they had quietly among themselves; the 
lord in his jovial, friendly demeanor be- 
haved as a man out of ^ his wits that knew 
not what he did. Then he spake to the 
knight, crying loud, " Ye have agreed to 
do the deed that I bid. Will ye hold this 
hest here at once ? " 

"Yea, sir, forsooth," said the true hero, 
" while I stay in your castle I shall be obe- 
dient to your hest." 

" Since ye have travelled from afar," 
quoth the warrior, " and then have sat late 
wdth me, ye are not well nourished, I know, 
either with sustenance or with sleep. Ye 
shall linger in your loft and lie at your ease 
tomorrow till mass time; and go to meat 
when ye will with ray wife, who shall sit 

1 Wolde in the text is translated as a corruption of 
some such word as " was lacking," or "wandered." 



with you and comfort you with her com- 
pany till I return home; and I shall rise 
early and go hunting." Gawain grants all 
this, bowing courteously. 

24. "Yet further," quoth the hero, "let us 
make an agreement. Whatsoever I win in 
the wood, it shall be yours; and whatsoever 
fortune ye achieve, exchange with me there- 
for. Sweet sir, swap we so, swear truly, 
whichever one of us gets the worse or the 
better." 

" By God," qucth Gawain the good, " I 
consent thereto; and whatever game you 
like, agreeable it seems to me." 

"On this beverage just brought the bar- 
gain is made," said the lord of that people; 
and both laughed. 

Then they drank and played and amused ^ 
themselves, these lords and ladies, so long 
as it pleased them; and then with polite 
demeanour and many fair gestures, they 
stood up and lingered a while, and talked 
quietly, kissed full comely, and took their 
leave. With many a gay servant and gleam- 
ing torches each hero was brought to his 
bed full softly at the last. Y'et before they 
went to bed they oft rehearsed the cove- 
nants. The old lord of that people knew 
well how to keep up a jest. 

FYTTE THE THIRD 

1. Full early before the day the folk 
arose ; the guests that would go called their 
grooms, and these hastened to saddle the 
horses, arrange their gear, and truss their 
mails. The great ones arrayed themselves 
to ride, leaped up lightly and caught their 
bridles, each wight on his way where it 
well pleased him. 

The dear lord of the land was not the 
last; arrayed for the riding, with retainers 
full many, he ate a sop ^ hastily after he 
had heard mass, and took his way quickly 
with his bugle to the field. By the time 
that any daylight gleamed upon earth, he 
with his heroes were mounted on their high 
horses. Then these hunters that understood 
it, coupled their hounds, unclosed the ken- 
nel doors and called them thereout, blew 
blithely on bugles three simple calls. At 
this the brachets ^ bayed and made a wild 
noise, and the hunters chastised and turned 

2 Word doubtful. 3 Took a light repast. 

4 Hounds that hunt by scent. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



33 



back those that wandered off, — a hundred 
hunters of the best there were, as I have 
heard tell. To their stations the trackers 
went; hunters cast off the couples ; and then 
arose for the good blasts great uproar in 
that forest. 

2. At the first noise of the quest the 
game quaked; the' deer moved down into 
the dale, dazed for dread; hurried to the 
height; bu.t quickly they were hindered by 
the beaters, who cried stoutly. They let the 
harts with the high heads go their way, the 
wild bucks also with their broad palms,^ 
for the generous lord had forbidden that 
there should any man meddle with the 
male deer in the close season. But the hinds 
were held back with "Hay!" and "Ho!" 
and the does driven with great din to the 
deep glades. There might one see as they 
ran the flight of arrows; at each turn under 
the boughs out flew a shaft, that savagely 
bit on the brown hide with full broad heads. 
Howjhejjeapfid-and bled and died by the 
,^nks ! And ever the hounds with a rush 
eagerly followed them; hunters with shrill 
horn hastened after with such a resound- 
ing cry as if cliffs had cracked. What game 
escaped the men who shot was all run down 
and torn at the stands. The deer^ were 
pestered at the heights, and worried at the 
waters; the people were so alert at the low 
stations, and the greyhounds so great, that 
got them quickly and pulled them down as 
fast as a man could see. The lord, shouting 
for joy, shot and alighted full oft, and 
passed the day thus with joy till the dark 
night. 

3. So this lord sports by the eaves of the 
linden wood, and Gawain the good man lies 
in his gay bed; reposes till the day light 
gleams on the walls, under the beautiful 
coverlets, curtained about. And as he fell 
into a doze, faintly he heard a little din at 
the door, then distinctly;^ and he heaved 
up his head out of the clothes, caught up a 
corner of his curtain a little, and watched 
warily in that direction to see what it might 
be. It was the lady, loveliest to behold, who 
drew the door to after her right slyly and 
quietly, and turned toward the bed. The 
hero grew bashful and laid himself down 
cimningly and pretended that he slept. And 
she stepped quietly, and stole to his bed, 

1 The flat, broad part of the horn. 

2 Subject supplied. s Meaning not quite sure. 



cast up the curtain, and crept within, and 
seated herself full softly on the bedside, 
and stayed there surprisingly long, to see 
when he should awake. The man lay pre- 
tending a full great while, bothered in his 
conscience what this affair might mean or 
amount to. Marvellous it seemed to him. 
But yet he said to himself, " More seemly 
would it be to find out by asking what she 
would." Then he waked, and stretched, and 
turned to her ; unlocked his eyelids, and 
made believe he was amazed, and crossed 
himself with his hand, to be the safer for 
his prayer. With chin and cheek full sweet, 
of mingled white and red, right lovely she 
looked, with her small laughing lips. 

4. " Good morrow, Sir Gawain ! " said 
that fair lady. " Ye are a careless sleeper 
when one can enter thus. Kow ye are cer- 
tainly taken; unless we can make a truce 
I shall bind you in your bed, ye may be 
sure of that ! " All laughing the lady shot 
those jests. 

" Good morrow, fair one," quoth Gawain 
the blithe. "I shall be at your disposal, and 
that pleases me well, for I yield me out- 
right and pray for grace, — and that is the 
best course, I judge, for I am in straits." 
And thus he returned the jests with many 
a blithe laugh. " But would ye, lovely lady, 
grant me leave, free ^ your prisoner and bid 
him rise, I would leave this bed and dress 
myself better. Then I could talk with you 
in more comfort." 

" Nay, forsooth, fair sir," said that sweet 
one, "ye shall not rise from your bed; I 
shall manage you better. I shall tie you 
up securely,^ and afterwards talk with my 
knight that I have caught; for I ween well, 
ye are indeed Sir Gawain, whom all the 
world worships whereso ye ride. Your 
honour, your courtesy, is heartily praised, 
by lords, by ladies, by all alive; and now 
ye are here, forsooth, and we all alone. My 
lord and his people are gone far away; the 
other men in their beds, and my maidens 
also; the door shut and closed with a strong 
hasp; and since I have in this house him 
whom all like, I shall make good use of my 
time while it lasts. Ye are welcome to my 
person, to do whatever you wish; I am per- 
force, and must remain, your servant." 

i Meaning doubtful. 

5 A mere guess : the line appears to be literally " I 
shall cover you here the other half also." 



34 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



5. " III good faith," quoth Gawain, " a 
great privilege it seems to me — though I 
be not now he that ye speak of. To reach 
such reverence as ye rehearse here, I am a 
man unworthy, I know well. By God, I 
should be glad — if it seemed good to you 

— to do what I might in speech or in serv- 
ice to enhance your worship; i — it were a 
pure joy." 

" In good faith, Sir Gawain," quoth the 
gay lady, " if I should speak ill of the fame 
and the prowess that pleases all others, or 
esteem it light, it would show but small 
discernment.^ But there are ladies enough 
who were liefer have this courteous one in 
their power — as I have thee here, — to 
dally dearly with your dainty words, to 
comfort themselves and dispel their cares, 

— than much of the treasure and gold that 
they have. But I praise the Lord who rules 
the skies that through his grace I have 
wholly in my hand that which all desire." 

Great cheer she that was so fair of face 
made him; the knight with discreet speeches 
answered her every proposal. 

6. " Madame," quoth the merry man, 
" Mary reward yon, for ia good faith I 
have found your generosity noble. People 
judge a person's deeds largely from the ac- 
counts of others;^ but the praise that they 
accord my deserts is but idle. It is simply 
your own nobility, who know nothing but 
good." 

"By Mary," quoth the gracious one, 
" methinks it is otherwise ; for were I 
worth all the store of women alive, and all 
the wealth of the world were in my hands, 
and I should bargain and choose to get me 
a lord, then for the good traits that I 
have found in the knight here, of beauty 
and graciousness and gay seeming, and 
from what I have heard before and hold 
in this case to be true, there should no hero 
in the world be chosen before you." 

"Indeed, worthy one," quoth the hero, 
"ye might* have chosen much better; but 
I am proud of the estimation that ye put 
upon me; and as your devoted servant I 
hold you my sovereign, and your knight 
I become; and Christ pay you for it." 

Thus they spoke of various things till 
past the midmorn; and ever the lady be- 

1 The passage is none too clear. 

* The last clause is obscure in the text. 

> The passage is obscure. * " might " supplied* 



haved as if she loved him much. But the 
hero fared with caution and made courteous 
pretences. " Though I were the fairest of 
women," mused the lady, " little love would 
he show, because of the danger that he seeks 
without reproach — the blow that may slay 
him, but must needs be undergone." The 
lady then asked leave, and he granted her 
full soon. 

7. Then she gave him good day, and of 
a sudden laughed; and as she stood there 
she astonished him with right sharp words: 
" Now may he that speeds each speech, pay 
you for this entertainment; but that ye are 
Gawain, it goes not in my mind." ^ 

" Wherefore ? " quoth the hero; and 
eagerly he asks, afraid lest he had failed 
in the performance of his design.^ But the 
lady blessed him and spake in this wise: 
"A man as good as Gawain is properly 
held — and courtesy is closed so entirely 
in him — could not easily have lingered so 
long with a lady but he had on some trifling 
excuse or other ^ courteously craved a kiss." 

Then said Gawain, " Indeed, be it as you 
like; I shall kiss at your commandment as 
becomes a knight, and fear" lest he dis- 
please you; so urge that plea no more." 
!She comes nearer at that and takes him 
in her arms; stoops graciously down and 
kisses the man. They courteously entrust 
each other to Christ. She goes forth at the 
door withoijt more ado, and he prepares to 
rise, and hurries amain ; calls to his cham- 
berlain, chooses his weeds, steps forth 
blithely to mass when he is ready; and then 
he goes to his meat, behaving always cour- 
teously, and makes merry all day till the 
bright moon rises. Never was a hero fairer 
entertained by two such worthy dames, the 
older and the younger. Much disport they 
make together. 

8. And ever the lord of the land is bound 
on his sport, to hunt in holts and heath at 
barren hinds. Such a sum of does and of 
other deer he slew there by the time the 
sun was low, that it were a marvel to esti- 
mate. Then eagerly they all flocked to- 
gether at the last; and quickly of the slain 
deer they made a quarry. The leaders 

B The negative is supplied. 

6 Possibly, "in some form of courtesy." 

"> Literally, " By some touch of some trifle at some 
tale's end." 

8 " Fear" is an emendation by Morris ; the clause is 
obscure. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



35 



hastened thereto with men enough; gath- 
ered the greatest of grease,^ and proceeded 
properly to undo^ them as the occasion de- 
mands. Some that were there tried them 
at the assay ^ and found two fingers of fat 
on the leanest of aU, Afterwards they slit 
the slot,^ seized the arber,° cut it free with 
a sharp knife, and tied it ^ up. Next they 
cut down along the four limbs and rent off 
the hide; then they opened the belly, took 
out the paunch, cutting eagerly, and laid 
aside the knot." They began at the throat 
again and skilfully divided the weasand 
from the windpipe and threw out the guts. 
Then they cut out the skoulders with their 
sharp knives, and pulled them through by a 
little hole, so as to have whole sides. Next 
they divided the breast, aud cut it in two; 
and once more they began at the throat, 
split the beast quickly right up to the crotch, 
took out the advancers,^ and immediately 
severed all the fillets by the ribs, and took 
them o£E properly along the backbone even 
to the haunch, — all of which hung to- 
gether. Then they heaved it up whole and 
cut it off there; and that they took for the 
numbles,^ as it is rightly called. At the 
fork of the thighs they cut the flaps behind ; 
hastily they hewed the carcass in two, and 
severed it along the backbone. 

9. Both the head and the neck they 
hewed off then, and afterwaids they 
sundered the sides swiftly from the chine, 
and the corbie's fee ^'^ they cast in a green 
tree. Then they pierced either thick side 
through by the rib, and hung them each by 
the hocks of the haunches — each man for 
his fee, as it befell him to have it. Upon a 
skin of a fair beast they fed their hounds 
with the liver and the lights, the leather 
of the paunches, and bread bathed in 
blood mingled thereamong. Loudly they 
blew the prize, and bayed their hounds; 
then they started to carry home their meat, 
blowing full stoutly many loud notes. By the 

1 The correct hunting term for " the fattest." 

2 Cut up. 

» Probably at the side of the neck, or on the brisket. 
* Probably at the hollow of the breast bone. 

5 The gullet probably. 

6 The schyre is presumably the " arber " ; though in 
1. 2256 it appears to be the skin of the neck or nape. 

1 i.e. the entrails, with the gullet knotted to prevent 
the filth fl-om escaping. 

8 This titbit is sometimes called a part of the num- 
bles. 

9 A choice cut ; hence, capriciously, our humble-pie. 
w A bit of the offal for the crows. 



time daylight was done the band had all 
arrived at the comely castle, where the 
knight is quietly waiting in comfort beside 
a bright tire. When the lord arrived and 
Gawain met him, there was joy enough. 

10. Then the lord commanded to gather 
in the hall all the household, and both the 
ladies to come down with their maids. Be- 
fore all the folk on the floor he bade men 
fetch his venison before him; and all in 
merry sport he called Gawain, told him the 
number of the choice beasts, and showed 
him the fat meat cut from ^^ the ribs ; " How 
like you this play ? Have I won the prize ? 
Have I properly earned thanks by my 
woodcraft?" 

"Yes, indeed," quoth the other hero; 
"here is the fairest store that I saw this 
seven year in the season of winter." 

"And all I give you, Gawain," quoth 
the host, then ; " for by our plighted cov- 
enant you can claim it as your own." 

" That is true," replied the hero, " and I 
say to you the same; I too have won this 
worthy thing within doors; and I am sure 
that with quite as good will it belongs to 
you." He throws his arms about his fair 
neck and kisses him as courteously as he 
knew how. " Take you there my merchan- 
dise; I have won no more; though I should 
give it up willingly even if it were greater." 

"It is good," quoth the good man; 
"gramercy therefor. Perchance it might 
be better if you would tell me where you 
won this same favour by your own ^^ wit.'- 

"That was not the agreement," said he; 
" ask me no more, for ye have got all that 
belongs to you, be sure of that." 

They laughed and made merry in low 
tones; then they went quickly to supper 
with new dainties enough. 

11. And afterwards as they sat by a fire- 
place in a chamber, servants poured to 
them oft the choice wine; and again in 
their jesting they agreed to make the same 
bargain on the morning that they made be- 
fore. — whatsoever chance betide to ex- 
change their winnings at night when they 
met, whatsoever new they win. They made 
this agreement before all the court, and 
the beverage was brought forth merrily at 
that time.i3 Then at length they politely 
took leave; and ererybody hurried to bed. 

11 Literally "upon." 12 Possessive uncertain. 

13 A drink ratifies the agreement — as before. 



36 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



When the cock had crowed and cackled 
but thrice, the lord had leaped from his 
bed; likewise his followers each one, so 
that the meat and the mass were promptly 
despatched, and the troop ready for the 
chase in the wood ere any day sprang. 
With hunters and horns they passed through 
the plains, and nnconpled the racing hounds 
among the thorns. 

12. Soon they heard the cry of the dogs 
by a marsh side. The huntsman encouraged 
the hounds that first caught the scent, 
hm'led sharp words at them with a great 
noise. The hounds that heard it hastened 
thither quickly, and fell immediately to the 
scent, forty at once. Then there rose such 
a resounding cry of gathered hounds that 
the rocks about rang. The hunters cheered 
them with horn and with mouth; then all 
together they swung in a troop between a 
pool in that wood and a wild crag. On a 
hill, beside a cliff at the side of the bog, 
where the rough rock was rudely fallen, 
they fared to the finding, and the hunters 
after them. The men surrounded both the 
rock and the hill, because they knew well 
that he was within them, — the beast that 
the bloodhounds were proclaiming there. 
Then they beat on the bushes and bade 
him rise up, and he savagely rushed out 
athwart the men, the most formidable of 
swine. Long since had he left the herd 
on account of his age, for he was a huge 
beast, the greatest of boars. His grinders 
when he grunted grieved many, for at his 
first burst he thrust three to the earth, and 
sped hastily forth at great speed without 
respite. And they hallooed " High ! " full 
loudly, and cried "Hay, hay ! " With horns 
to mouth lustily they blew the recheat.^ 
Many were the merry cries of men and of 
hounds that hastened after this boar with 
hue and cry to kill him. Full oft he bides 
at bay, and maims the pack in the mel^e. 
He hurts many of the hounds and griev- 
ously they howl and yell. 

13. The hunters pushed forward then to 
shoot at him, aimed at him with their ar- 
rows and hit him often. But the shafts that 
struck on his shields,^ give way at the pith, 
and the barbs would not bite on his brawn 
though the shaven shafts shivered in pieces; 
the head hopped out again wheresoever it 

1 A call for collecting the hounds. 

2 The tough skin of the flanks. 



hit. But when the dints of their keen 
strokes scared him, then mad for destruc- 
tion he rushed on the men, did them sore 
hurt where he hurled forth, and many a one 
grew wary thereat and gave back a little. 
But the lord on a light liorse hurries after 
him, blowing his bugle like a bold hero. 
He winds the recheat as he rides through 
tliick groves, following this wild swine 
till the sun declined. Thus they drive on 
the day with such doings while our lovely 
hero lies comfortably in his bed at home in 
clothes full rich of hue. The lady did not 
forget; she came to greet him; full early 
she was by him to change his mind. 

14. She comes to the curtain and peeps 
at the knight. Sir Gawain at once welcomes 
her worthily, and she returns his greeting 
right promptly, seats herself softly by his 
side, laughs openly, and with a lovely look 
addresses these words to him: " Sir, if ye 
be Gawain, it seems to me a very strange 
thing that a man of such quality should 
not follow the conventions of good society; 
and should after making acquaintance with 
a person cast him utterly from his mind. 
Thou hast already forgotten what I taught 
you yesterday in the best language that I 
knew." 

"What is that? " quoth the hero. "For- 
sooth I know not. If what ye say be true, 
I am to blame." 

" Yet I taught you about kissing," re- 
plied the fair lady; "wherever a counte- 
nance is known, quickly to claim a kiss; 
that becomes every knight who practices 
courtesy." 

" Cease such speech, my dear lady," said 
the ready man. " I durst not claim it lest 
I should be denied. If I proposed and were 
refused, I should certainly be wrong in 
proffering." 

" By my faith," quoth the lovely dame, 
" ye cannot be refused. Ye are strong 
enough to compel it by strength if ye 
pleased, supposing any were so ill-bred as 
to deny you." 

" Yea, by God," said Gawain, " your 
speech is good; but violence is considered 
discourteous among my people, as is any 
gift that is not given with a good will. I 
am at your command to kiss when ye like. 
Ye may begin when ye please, and leave 
off whenever it likes you." 

The lady stoops down and gracefully 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



37 



kisses his face. They converse long of the 
fears and joys of love. 

15. " I should like to know from you, 
sir," said the peerless lady. " if it vexes 
you not, — what might be the reason that so 
young and so gallant person as ye now are, 
one so courteous and so knightly as ye are 
known everywhere to be, have never spoken 
of love?- For in relating the pains of true 
knights, the chief thing praised in all of 
chivalry is the royal sport of love, — and 
the science of arms: it is the title, token, 
and text of their works; how heroes for 
their true love adventured their lives, en- 
dured for their sweethearts doleful hours, 
and afterwards avenged themselves by their 
valour; dispersed their care, and brought 
bliss to bower, with plenteous rewards for 
themselves. And ye are the most renowned 
knight of your time ; your fame and your 
worship walks everywhere, — and now I 
have sat by you here two separate times, 
yet have I never heard from your head a 
single word that pertained at all to love, 
less or more. And ye, that are so courte- 
ous and so distinguished in your vows, 
ought willingly to show and teach to a 
young thing some tokens of the art of true 
love. Why are ye so rude who are so praised? 
Is it that ye deem me too dull to hearken 
to your dalliance ? For shame ! I came 
hither all alone to sit and learn from you 
some accomplishment: do teach me part of 
your skill while my lord is from home." 

16. " In good faith," quoth Gawain, 
" God reward you ! Great is the entertain- 
ment, and huge the pleasure to me, that so 
worthy a one as ye should come hither, and 
take pains with so poor a man, and play 
with your knight in any wise; it deliglits 
me. But to take upon myself the task of 
expounding true love, of touching upon the 
themes of that text, and tales of arms be- 
fore you, who I wot well have more knowl- 
edge of that sort by the half than I or a 
hundred such have, or ever shall have so 
long as I live, — that were a manifold folly 
by my troth, dear one. But I would work 
your will with all my might, highly be- 
holden ito you as I am; and I wish ever- 
more to be your servant, so God save me." 

Thus the fair lady besought him, and 

1 The words in italics are rashly supplied by the 
translator. For several lines here the construction is 
unclear. 



tried him oft, for to have won him to 
wrong, — whatever it was she purposed ; 
but he defended himself so fairly that no 
fault appeared, nor any evil on either side; 
they knew nought but joy. They laughed 
and played a long time, till at last she 
kissed him, took her leave fairly, and went 
her way. 

17. Then the hero bestirred himself and 
rose to the mass; and afterwards their din- 
ner was dight and splendidly served. The 
hero sported with the ladies all day, but 
the lord raced over the land full oft, fol- 
lowing his uncouth swine, that rushed along 
the banks and bit in sunder the backs of his 
best brachets.2 There he abode at his bay 
till bowmen broke it, and maugre his head 
made him move forth. Many fell arrows 
there flew when the folk gathered about, 
but yet at times he made the stoutest to 
start; till at the last he was so weary he 
could no more run; but with the haste that 
he might he won to a hole in a cleft by a 
rock, where the burn runs. He got the 
bank at his back and began to scrape; the 
ugly froth foamed from the corners of his 
mouth, and he whet his white tusks. It 
was not pleasant for all the bold hunters 
that stood about him to approach him even 
remotely; and to go nigh him durst none 
for fear of harm. He had hurt so many 
before, that all seemed then full loath to be 
more torn with the tusks of that savage 
and crazed beast. 

18. When the knight came himself, rein- 
ing his steed, and saw him bide at the bay 
near his men, he lighted nimbly down, 
left his courser, pulled out a bright brand 
and boldly strode forth, and hurried fast 
through the stream where the fell one 
abode. The wild creature was ware of the 
wight with weapon in hand, and heaved 
on high his hairs; so fiercely he snorted 
that many feared for their lord lest to him 
befell the worse. The swine rushed directly 
upon the hero, so that man and boar were 
both in a heap in the wildest of the water; 
but the boar had the worse, for the man 
marked him well as they first met and skil- 
fully set his point exactly in the slot,'^ 
pierced him up to the hilt so that his heart 
split, and he gave way squealing and went 
quickly down the water. A hundred hounds 
seized him and fiercely bit on him. Men 

2 hounds. 8 The proper piercing spot in the chest. 



38 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



brought him to land and the dogs finished 
him.i 

19. There was blowing of the prize "^ on 
many a loud hoi-n, high halloing aloft by 
mighty hunters; brachets bayed the beast 
as the masters bade who were the chief 
huntsmen of that swift chase. Then a wight 
that was wise in woodcraft begins skilfully 
to unlace ^ this boar. First he hews otf its 
head and sets it on high; and afterwards 
splits him all down his rough back, and 
takes out the bowels and singes them on 
the coals; tlien with bread mingled with 
these, he rewards his hounds. Afterwards 
he cuts the brawn in fine broad shields, and 
has out the hastlets ^ in the proper man- 
ner. And now they bind the halves all whole 
together, and afterwards stoutly hang them 
on a stiff staff. Now with this same swine 
they take their way home. The boar's 
head was borne before the warrior who 
slew him at the stream through the force 
of his own strong hand. It seemed long to 
him until he saw Sir Gawain in the hall; 
then he called, and Gawain came promptly 
to take his fees there. 

20. The lord jested ^ full loudly, and 
merrily he laughed when he saw Sir Ga- 
wain; with pleasure he spoke. The good 
ladies were called and the household gath- 
ered. He showed them the shields and told 
them the tale of the girth ^ and length of the 
wild swine; and also of his viciousness in 
the wood where he fled. That other knight 
full comely commended his deeds, and 
praised it as a great bag that he had made ; 
for such a brawn of a beast, the bold man 
said, nor such sides of a swine, saw he 
never before. Then they handled the huge 
head; the courteous man praised it and 
made much of it to honour the lord. 

"Now Gawain," quoth the good man, 
" this game is your own, by fine and fast 
foreword, truly ye know." 

" It is sooth," quoth the hero; " and as 
truely all my getting I shall give you in 
turn, by my troth." He took the warrior 
about the neck and courteously kissed him, 
and another time he served him the same. 



1 Present and past tense are oddly mixed in this 
stanza, as often in the poem. This time they have been 
normalized. 

2 The horn-blowing for the game's death. 

3 cut up. 4 cutlets. 

5 Two words not clear. 

6 Translating largesse as "largeness." 



" Now we are even," quoth the warrior, 
" tonight of all the covenants that we knit 
by law since I came hither." 

Said the lord, " By St. Giles, ye are the 
best that I know ! Ye will be rich in a 
short time, if ye drive such chaffer ! " 

21. Then they raised tables aloft on 
trestles, and cast cloths upon them. The 
clear light then appeared along the walls, 
as men set and distributed waxen torches 
all about the hall. Much mirth and glee 
rose up therein, about the fire on the hearth, 
and in various wise at the supper and after. 
Many noble songs they sang, as Christmas 
carols and new dance tunes, with all the 
mannerly mirth that a man can tell of. And 
ever our lovely knight sat beside the lady. 
Such seemly cheer she made to the hero, 
sought with such sly stolen'^ glances to please 
the stalwart one, that the wight was all 
amazed, and wroth with himself. But he 
would not on account of his breeding re- 
prove her, but responded in all courtesy, 
howsoever outrageous she might be. When 
they had played in the hall as long as their 
will lasted, the lord called to bedwards, and 
to the room with a fireplace they passed. 

22. And there they drank and talked, 
and the lord proposed again to make the 
same arrangement for New Year's Eve. 
But the knight craved leave to depart on 
the morn, for it was nigh at the term that 
he must keep. The lord hindered him from 
that, persuaded him to linger, and said, 
"As I am true man, I pledge my troth 
thou shalt reach the green chapel to do thy 
tasks, sir, by New Year's light, long be- 
fore prime. Therefore lie m thy loft and 
take thine ease; and I shall hunt in this 
holt and keep the covenant — change mer- 
chandise with thee when I return hither; 
for I have tried thee twice, and faithful I 
find thee; now, 'third time, best time.' 8 
Think on the morrow. Make we merry 
while we may, and be joyful; for a man can 
catch trouble whensoever he likes." 

This was readily granted and Gawain 
stayed. Drink was quickly brought to them, 
and to bed they went with lights. Sir Ga- 
wain lay and slept full still and soft all 
night; the lord, mindful of his hunting, was 
dight full early. 

'f A guess for stollen. 

8 The line is not clear; literally, perhaps, " third 
time, throw best." 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



39 



23. After mass he and his men took a 
morsel. Merry was the morning. He asks for 
his mount, and all the sportsmen who should 
accompany him on horse were ready mounted 
on their steeds before the hall gates. Won- 
drous fair was the field, for the frost still 
lingered. The sun rose in a rack of ruddy 
red, and drove all the clouds from the wel- 
kin. The hunters uncoupled by a holt side, 
and the rocks in the forest rang for the 
noise of their horns. Some dogs fell on a 
scent where the fox had loitered; followed 
it oft obliquely ^ through the cunning of their 
wiles. A kennet^ cried upon it; the hunts- 
man encouraged him, and his fellows hast- 
ened after, panting thickly. They ran forth 
in a rabble on Reynard's very track, and he 
hurried before them. Soon they found him; 
and when they actually saw him they chased 
him fast, baying him full fiercely with a 
huge noise. And he trants^ and turns 
thi'ough many a rough grove; doubles and 
hearkens by hedges full often. At the last 
by a little ditch he leaps over a spinny, 
and steals out full stilly by a rough rand.^ 
Half escaped from the wood he turns with 
wiles from the hounds ; but then he arrived, 
ere he knew it, at a chosen stand, where in 
an instant three stout hunters in gray 
threatened him at once. He blenched again 
quickly, and bravely started oft"; with all 
the woe in the world, he turned away to the 
wood. 

24. Then was it a pure joy to listen to the 
hounds, when all the gathered mute^ got 
view of him. Tlie cry they set on his head at 
the sight was as if all the resounding cliffs 
had clattered down in a heap. Here he was 
halloed when the hunters met him, loudly 
cried upon with noisy calls; there he was 
threatened and often called thief; and ever 
the ticklers were at his tail so that he could 
not tarry. Oft he was run at when he raked 
out, and oft he reeled in again, so wily was 
Reynard. And ever he led the bespattered 
lord and his troop in this manner among the 
hills, now in them, now over, now under, 
while the courteous knight at home slept 
wholesomely within the comely curtains on 
the cold morn. 

But the lady for love cared not to sleep 
nor to give up the purpose that bode in her 
heart; but up she rose quickly and took her 

. 1 Word obscure. ^ small hound. ' twists. 

* Unploughed strip by woodside. b pack. 



way thither in a gay mantle meetly reach- 
ing to the earth, and furred full fine with 
skins of the best. No ornaments of gold on 
her head; but only the bright stones set 
about her tressour ^ in clusters of twenty. 
With her fair face and her lovely throat 
all naked, her breast bare before and be- 
hind too, she comes within the chamber 
door and closes it after her, throws up a 
window and calls on the wight, and smartly 
thus stirred him with her fair cheery words. 
" Ah man, how can you sleep, this morning 
is so clear ! " Though he was drowsing 
deep, yet could he hear her. 

25. In the dreary depths of a dream the 
noble was sunk, like a man suffering from 
many sad thoughts, how destiny should 
dight him' his weird at the green chapel 
that day when he met the man, and had to 
abide his buffet without more debate. But 
when he had fairly recovered his wits, he 
emerged from his dreams and answered 
with haste. The lovely lady came laughing 
sweetly, stooped over his fair face and 
courteously kissed him. He welcomed her 
wortliily with choice cheer. To see her so 
glorious, and so gaily attired, so faidtless 
of feature, and so lovely of colour, warmed 
his heart with welling joy. With smooth 
and gracious smiling they straightway 
waxed mirthful. All was bliss and good 
cheer that passed between them. They ex- 
changed goodly words; much happiness they 
felt, and great was the peril between them, 
unless Mary thought of her knight. 

26. For that beauteous princess con- 
strained him so sorely, and the danger 
pressed him so nigh, that of necessity it 
behooved him either accept her love or 
rudely refuse it. He thought much of his 
courtesy, lest he should prove a clown; and 
more on his villainy if he should do sin, and 
be traitor to the hero who owned the castle. 
" God shield ! " quoth the warrior, " that 
shall not befall ! " With a little love-dalli- 
ance he laid aside all the pointed speeches 
that sprang from her mouth. 

Quoth the lady to the hero: "Ye deserve 
blame if ye love not her who is so near 
you, — of all creatures in the world most 
wounded in heart; — unless indeed ye have 
a sweetheart, a dearer being, that pleases 
you better, and ye have plighted faith so 

« headdress, caul. 

7 Words in italics supplied by Morris. 



40 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



firmly to that gentle one that ye care not 
to loosen it. — Verily now that is what 1 
believe, and I pray you that you tell me 
truly; for all the loves in the world deny 
not the truth with guile." 

" By St. John ! " said the knight, and 
courteously he smiled, " I have none, and 
none will I have." 

27. " That is the worst of all ! " quoth 
the lady. " I am answered indeed, to my 
sorrow. Kiss me now comely and I shall 
go hence. I can only mourn in the world as 
a maid that loved much." 

Sighing she stooped down and kissed him 
seemly; and then she severed from him, and 
said as she stood, " Now, dear, at this de- 
parting do me this comfort; give me some- 
what of thy gift, thy glove if it might be, 
that I may think on thee, sir, to lessen my 
mourning." 

" Now in truth," quoth that man, *' I 
would I had here for thy love, the dearest 
thing that I wield; for truly ye have right 
oft in reason deserved a greater reward 
than I could reckon. But to exchange with 
you love-tokens, that would proj&t but little. 
It is not for your honor to have at this time 
a glove of Ga wain's gift for a keepsake; 
and I am here on an errand in lands un- 
couth, and have no men with mails full of 
precious things for remembrances at this 
moment ; and that mislikes me, lady. But 
every man must act according to his cir- 
cumstances, and none should take it ill or 
repine." 

"Now, courteous and honourable one," 
quoth that lovesome lady, " though I shall 
have nothing of yours, yet shall ye have of 
mine." 

28. She reached him a rich ring of red 
gold work with a gleaming stone standing 
aloft, that shed blushing beams like the 
bright sun; know ye well it was worth 
wealth full huge. But the man refused it, 
and readily he said: "I desire no great 
gifts, my gay one, at this time. I have 
naught to give you, and naught will I take." 

She offered it him full pressingly, and 
he refused her offer, and swore swiftly on 
his sooth that he would not take it. And 
she sorrowed that he refused, and said 
thereafter, " If ye refuse my ring, since it 
seems too rich, and ye would not be so highly 
beholden to me, I shall give you my girdle, 
that will enrich you less." 



She lightly caught a lace that went about 
her sides, knit upon her kirtle under the 
bright mantle. It was adorned with green 
silk, and ornamented with gold, broidered 
all around, decked with fringes ;i and that 
she offered to the hero, and gaily besought 
that, though it were unworthy, he would 
take it. And he denied that he would in 
any wise take either gold or present ere 
God sent him grace to achieve the chance 
that he had chosen there. " And therefore, 
I pray you, be not displeased, and give over 
your attempt; for I intend never to consent. 
I am dearly beholden to you because of 
your entertainment; and ever in hot and in 
cold I will be your true servant." 

29. " Now refuse ye this silk," said the 
lady then, " because it is simple in itself, as 
it certainly seems to be ? Lo I little it is, 
and less it is worth; but whoso knew the 
virtues that are knit therein, he would es- 
teem it at a greater price peradventure; 
for whatsoever man is girt with this green 
lace, while he has it fittingly wrapped 
about him, there is no warrior under heaven 
than can wound him; for he could not be 
slain by any device in the world." 

Then the knight paused, and it came to 
his heart that it would be a jewel for the 
peril that awaited him when he arrived afc 
the chapel to undergo his ordeal. Could he 
manage to be unslain, that were a noble de- 
vice. Then he indulged her entreaties and 
suffered her to speak ; and she pressed the 
belt on him and offered it to him eagerly. 
And he accepted it, and she gave it him with 
a good will, and besought him for her sake 
never to discover it, but to conceal it loy- 
ally from her lord. The man agreed that 
never person should know it indeed but 
they twain. Full oft he thanked her, right 
glad in heart and thought. By that she had 
kissed the stout knight three times. 

30. Then she takes her leave and leaves 
him there, for more entertainment she could 
not get from that man. When she was gone 
Sir Gawain bestirs himself, rises and dresses 
in noble array. He lays up the love-lace the 
lady had given him, hides it full cleverly 
where he can find it again. Then promptly 
he takes his way to the chapel; qiiietly ap- 
proaches to the priest and prays him there 

1 Reading fryngesiox MB.fi/ngres; or we may keep 
the text and translate, "wrought, embroideredv by 
fingers." 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



41 



that he would elevate his life, and teach 
him better how his soul should be saved 
when he should go hence. Then he shrives 
him cleanly and shows his misdeeds, both 
the more and the less, beseeches mercy, and 
begs for absolution. And the priest assoils 
him thoroughly aud set him as clean as if 
doomsday had been due on the morrow. 
And afterwards Gawain makes more mirth 
among the fair ladies that day with comely 
carols and all kinds of joy than ever he did 
before, till the dark night. Everyone had 
pleasure of him there, and said indeed that 
he had never been so merry since he came 
hither. 

31. Now let him linger in that place, 
where may love betide him. The lord is 
still in the field leading his men. He has 
overtaken this fox that he followed so long, 
as he sprinted over a spinuy to spy the ras- 
cal, where he heard the hounds that has- 
tened fast after him. Reynard came run- 
ning through a rough grove, and all the 
rabble in a rout riglit at his heels. The man 
was ware of the game, and warily abode; 
pulled out his bright brand and struck at 
the beast; and he dodged from the sharp 
weapon and would have turned; but a dog 
seized him ere he could, and right before 
the horse's feet they all fell on him and 
worried this wily one with a great noise. 
The lord lighted quickly, and caught him 
forthwith; pulled him full hastily out of 
the dogs' mouths, and holding hiin high over 
his head, halloed fast; and there many fierce 
hounds bayed him. Hunters hied them thith- 
er with horns full many, ever blowing the 
recheat ^ till they saw the hero. As soon as 
his noble company was come, all that bare 
bugle blew at once, and all the others that 
had no horns halloed. It was the merri- 
est mute ^ that ever men heard — the rich 
riot that there was raised for Reynard's 
soul. They rewarded the hounds there, 
stroked them and rubbed their heads; and 
afterwards they took Reynard and turned 
off his coat. 

32. And then they hastened home, for it 
was nigh night, blowing full stoutly in their 
great horns. The lord alighted at last at 
his dear home, found fire on the floor, and 
the hero beside it. Sir Gawain the good, 
that glad was withal among the ladies; in 

1 The note that recalls all the dogs. 

2 Noise of the whole band. 



their love he had much joy. He wore a 
mantle of blue that reached to the earth; 
his surcoat, that was softly furred, became 
him well; and his hood of the same hung 
on his shoulder. Trimmed all about with 
fine fur were both. He met this good man 
in the middle of the floor, aud all joyfully 
he greeted him, and goodly he said: " Now 
I shall fulfill our covenant, that we have 
just made, where no drink was spared." 
Then he embraces the knight and kisses 
him thrice with as much gusto aud as sober- 
ly as he could give them. 

" By Christ ! " quoth the other knight, 
" ye get much bliss in the profits of this 
business — if ye drive good bargains ! " 

" Of the bargain, no matter," quoth curt- 
ly that other, " so long as the debts that 1 
owed are properly paid." 

"Mary!" quoth the other man, "my 
offering is the worse, for I have hunted all 
this day, and naught have I got but this 
foul fox-fell; the fiend have the good ones! 
And that is full poor to pay for such fine 
things as ye have given me here, three such 
rare kisses." 

"It is enough," quoth Sir Gawain; "I 
thank you, by the rood." And as they stood 
there the lord told him how the fox was 
slain. 

33. With mirth and minstrelsy, with 
meats at their will, they made as merry as 
any men could. With laughing of ladies, 
with merry jests, Gawain and the good man 
were both as glad as if the court were mad, 
or else drunk. Both the man and his retinue 
made many jokes till the season arrived 
when they must sever; the men had to go 
to their beds at last. Then humbly this 
gentle man takes his leave of the lord first; 
and fairly he thanks him. " For such a joy- 
ous sojourn as I have had here, for the, 
honor you have shown me at this high feast, 
the high king reward you ! I can only give 
you myself to be one of your men, if that 
pleases you. For I must needs, as ye know, 
proceed, tomorrow, if ye will grant me 
some man to show, as you promised, the 
way to the green chapel, as God will suffer 
me to take on New Year's day the doom of 
my fate." 

" In good faith," quoth the good man, 
" with a good will ! All that ever I prom- 
ised you, I will perform." Therewith he 
assigns a servant to set him in the way, and 



42 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



conduct him by the downs, that he should 
without hesitation travel through the forest 
and fare at the best in the woods. The lord 
thanked Gawain for the worship he had 
been willing to show him. Then the knight 
took his leave of the beautiful ladies. 

34. With care and with kissing he speaks 
to them, and many earnest thanks he 
presses upon them. And they returned him 
the same again promptly; they entrusted 
him to Christ with sighings full sad. After- 
wards he graciously departs from the house- 
hold; each man that he met he thanked him 
for his service and his solace, and the vari- 
ous pains with which they had been busy to 
serve him. And each man was as sad to 
sever from him there as if they had ever 
dwelt worthily with that hero. Then with 
people and with light he was led to his 
chamber and blithely brought to bed to be 
at his rest. Whether he slept soundly I dare 
not say, for he had much to think of on the 
morrow if he would. Let him lie there; he 
was near what he sought. If ye will be still 
a while I shall tell you how they fared. 

FYTTE THE FOURTH 

1. Now nighs the New Year, and the 
night passes. The day drives on to the dark, 
as God bids ; but outside wild storms wak- 
ened in the world; clouds cast the cold 
keenly to the earth; with discomfort enough 
to the naked, the snow from the north flew 
sharply, and nipped the game. The bluster- 
ing wind blew from the heights, and drove 
each dale full of great drifts. The man who 
lay in his bed heard it right well; though 
he locks his lids, full little he sleeps. By 
each cock that crew he knew well the hour. 
Promptly he leaped up ere the day sprang, 
for there was the light of a lamp that 
gleamed in his chamber. He called to his 
chamberlain, who quickly answered him, 
and bade him bring his burnie and saddle 
his horse. The chamberlain gets up and 
fetches him his weeds, and arrays Sir 
Gawain in proper fashion. First he dressed 
him in his clothes to keep out the cold, and 
then he put on the rest of his harness, that 
had been well kept, both mail and plate, 
and brightly polished. The rings of his rich 
bnrnie had been rocked from the rust,^ and 
all was fresh as at first; and Gawain was 
1 That is, in a barrel of sand. 



fain to give thanks for it. The attendant 
had wiped each piece well and often. Then 
the noblest man betwixt here and Greece 
bade his steed be brought. 

2. Meanwhile, he threw upon himself his 
finest weeds ; his surcoat with its cogni- 
sance of excellent work, virtuous stones set 
upon velvet, all wrought about and bound 
with embroidered seams, and fairly furred 
within with rare skins. Yet left he not the 
lace, the lady's gift, — that forgot not 
Gawain for his own good. W^hen he had 
belted his brand upon his broad haunches, 
he dressed his love-token double about him, 
the knight swathed sweetly about his waist 
the girdle of green silk, which became him 
well, upon the royal red cloth that was fair to 
see. But this hero wore not the girdle for 
its wealth, for pride of the pendants, though 
they were polished, and though the glitter- 
ing gold gleamed on the ends; but to save 
himself when it behoved him to suffer, to 
await his doom without resistance, with no 
brand or knife to defend him. By this the 
good man is ready and goes out quickly. 
Full often he thanks the distinguished com.- 
pany. 

3. Gringolet the huge and strong was 
ready, who had been kept skilfully in the 
safest manner. The proud horse in his 
splendid condition longed for spurring. 
The hero approached him, noticed his coat, 
and said soberly, and by his sooth swore — 
" Here, in this castle, is a company that are 
mindful of courtesy. The man who main- 
tains them, joy may he have; the dear lady, 
love betide her in this life, since they for 
charity cherish a guest and uphold honor in 
their hand. May the Being reward them 
who holds the heaven on high — and also 
you all. And if I might live any longer in 
the world I should give you some reward if 
I could." Then he stepped into stirrup and 
strode aloft. His servant offered him his 
shield; he put it on his shoulder. He spurred 
Gringolet with his gilt heels, and the steed 
jumped on the stone; no longer he stood 
still, but pranced. Gawain's servant, who 
bore his lance and helm, was by then on the 
horse. "This castle I entrust to Christ; 
may he give it aye good chance ! " 

4. The bridge was let down, and the broad 
gates unbarred and borne open on both 
sides. The hero crossed himself quickly and 
passed the boards, praised the porter, who 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



43 



knelt before him giving good day and pray- 
ing God that he save Gawain. And so he 
went on his way w^ith his one man that 
should teach him how to find that dismal 
place where he should receive the rueful 
blow. They rode by banks where boughs 
are bare; they climbed by cliffs where the 
cold clings; the sky was upheld, but it was 
ugly beneath; mist hang on the moor and 
melted on the mount; each hill had a hat, a 
huge mist-cloak. Brooks boiled and broke 
from the banks about, shattering sheer on 
their shores where they showered down. 
Dreary was the way, where they should 
travel by the wood, till soon came the sea- 
son when the sun rises at that time. They 
were on a hill full high, the white snow 
about them, when the man that rode beside 
him bade his master abide. 

5. " I have brought you hither, sir, at 
this time ; and now ye are not far from that 
famous spot that ye have asked and in- 
quired so specially after. But I shall say to 
you forsooth, since I know you, and ye are 
a man that I love well, if ye would work 
by my wit ye should be the better for it. The 
place that ye press to is held full perilous. 
There dwells in that waste a wight the 
worst upon earth; for he is stiff and stern 
and loves to strike; and greater he is than 
any man in the world, and his body bigger 
than the four best that are in Arthur's 
house, and bigger than Hector or any other. 
He maintains that adventure at the green 
chapel. There passes by that place none so 
proud in arms but he dins him to death 
with dint of his hand. For he is a man with- 
out measure and uses no mercy; for be it 
churl or chaplain that rides by the chapel, 
monk or mass-priest, or any man else, he 
likes as well to kill him as to go alive him- 
self. Therefore I tell ye as truly as ye sit 
in the saddle, come ye there ye shall be 
killed — trust me well — though ye had 
twenty lives to spend. He has dwelt here 
full long and caused much strife in the 
land. Against his sore dmts ye cannot de- 
fend yourself. 

6. " Therefore, good Sir Gawain, let the 
fellow alone, and go away some other road, 
for God's sake. Repair to some other coun- 
try, where Christ may speed you; and I 
shall hie me home again, and promise you 
further — which I will swear by God and 
all his good saints, so help me God and the 



halidom and oaths enough — that I will 
loyally conceal you, and never tell tale that 
ever ye fled for any man that I know of." 

"Gramercy," quoth Gawain. And sternly 
he added. " Well worth thee, man, who 
wishes my good; and I well believe thou 
wouldst loyally conceal me. But if thou 
kept promise never so faithfully, and I gave 
up here, sought for fear to fly as you ad- 
vise, I were a knight coward; I could not be 
excused. But I will go to the chapel what- 
ever chance may fall, Etnd talk with that 
same man the tale that I like, be it good 
or evil, as it pleases fate to have it. Though 
he be a stern champion to cope with, and 
armed with a club, full well can God man- 
age to save his servants." 

7. " Mary ! " quoth that other man, 
" now thou sayest as much as that thou wilt 
take upon thyself thine own destruction; if 
it pleases thee to lose thy life, I shall not 
let nor hinder thee. Have here thy helm 
on thy head, thy spear in thy hand; and ride 
down this same lane by yon rock-side till 
thou be brought to the bottom of the rugged 
valley; then look a little up the grassy slope 
on thy left hand, and thou shalt see in that 
ravine the chapel itself, and the burly man 
on the field who keeps it. Now farewell in 
God's name, Gawain the noble, for all the 
gold in the world I would not go with thee 
nor bear thee fellowship through this wood 
a foot further." 

At that the man turned his bridle in the 
wood, hit the horse with the heels as hard 
as he could; leaped over the land, and left 
the knight there all alone. 

"By God's self," quoth Gawain, "I will 
neither grieve nor groan. To God's will I 
am full obedient, and to him I have en- 
trusted myself." 

8. Then he spurs Gringolet and follows 
the path; pushes in by a hollow beside a 
thicket; rides through the rough slope right 
to the dale; and then he looked about him, 
and wild it seemed to him. He saw no sign 
of dwelling anywhere around, but on both 
sides high steep banks, and rough hunched 
crags with projectmg stones; the shadows 
of the cliffs seemed to him terrible. Then 
he paused and held back his horse, and oft 
changed his cheer while seeking the chapel. 
He saw none such on any side, and strange 
it seemed to him. But soon, a little dis- 
tance off on a grassy spot he descried a 



44 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



mound as it were, a smooth hill by the bank 
of the stream near a ford of tlie flood that 
ran there. The burn bubbled there as if it 
were boiling. The knight urges his steed, 
and comes to the hill; lights nimbly down, 
and ties the rein and his rich bridle to a 
tree by a rough branch; then he turns to 
the hill and walks about it, debating with 
himself what it might be. It had a hole at 
the end and on either side, and was over- 
grown with grass in clumps everywhere, 
and was all hollow within — nothing but an 
old cave or a crevice of an old crag. He 
could not understand it at all. " Alas, Lord," 
quoth the gentle knight, "can this be the 
green chapel ? Here about midnight the 
devil might tell his matitis." 

9. "Now," quoth Ga wain, "it certainly is 
mysterious here; this oratory is ugly, over- 
grown with herbs. Well it beseems the 
wight clad in green here to do his devotions 
in the devil's wise. Now I feel in my five 
wits it is the fiend that has made this bar- 
gain with me, to destroy me here. This is 
a chapel of mischance; may ill fortune be- 
tide it ! It is the cursedest kirk that ever I 
came in ! " 

With high helm on his head, his lance in 
his hand, he strides up to the rock of the 
rude dwelling. Then he heard from that 
high hill, in a rough cave, on a bank beyond 
the brook, a marvellously savage noise. Lo, 
the cliff clattered as though it would split, 
as if one were grinding a scythe on a grind- 
stone. It whirred and screeched like water 
at a mill; it rushed and rang that it was 
ruth to hear. 

"By God," quoth Gawain then, "that 
gear, I fancy, is being prepared to give me 
a good reception. Yet though I must lose 
my life, fear shall never make me change 
colour." 

10. Then the knight called full high: 
** Who dwells in this place to keep covenant 
with me ? For now the good Gawain is 
passing right here. If any wight wishes 
ought, let him come hither fast, now or 
never, to fulfill his need ! " 

" Abide ! " quoth one on the bank over 
his head. " Thou shalt have in all haste 
that which I promised thee once." 

Yet he kept on with that noise sharply for 
a while, turning and whetting, ere he would 
come down. And then he crossed by a crag 
and came from a hole, whirling out of a 



dark place with a fell weapon — a Danish 
axe new dight, to give the blow with. It 
had fast to the helve a great head, sharp- 
ened on the stone. Four feet long was the 
weapon — no less, by that lace that gleamed 
full bright. And the man in the green was 
arrayed as before — both his skin and his 
limbs, locks, and beard; save that on foot 
he strides fairly on the earth. He set the 
steel shaft to the stone and stalked beside 
it. When he came to the water, where he 
did not wish to wade, he hopped over on 
his axe, and fiercely advanced, with sav- 
age ferocity pacing the broad snow-covered 
glade. Sir Gawain met the knight and 
bowed to him, not at all low. The other 
said, " Now, sweet sir, in a covenant a man 
can trust thee." 

11. " Gawain," quoth the green warrior, 
" may God preserve thee. Indeed thou art 
welcome, hero, to my place; and thou hast 
timed thy travel as a true man should. And 
thou knowest the covenants made between 
us; at this time twelve month, thou tookest 
what fell to thee, — and I at this New Year 
was to repay you handsomely. And now we 
are in this valley entirely alone; here are 
no men to part us, however we may behave. 
Have thy helm off thy head, and have here 
thy pay. Make no more debate than I of- 
fered thee then, when thou whipped off my 
head at one blow." 

" Nay," qiioth Gawain, ** by God that 
lent me life, I shall grudge thee not a whit 
whatever misfortune falls. But arrange thee 
for thy one stroke, and I shall stand still 
and hinder thee not the least from doing 
the work as you like." 

He bent the neck and bowed down, show- 
ing the flesh all bare; and behaved as if he 
cared not. For no dread would he flinch. 

12. Then the man in the green got ready 
quickly, gathered up his grim tool to smite 
Gawain. With all the might in his body he 
bare it aloft, and aimed a savage blow as 
though he wished to kill him. Had it driven 
down as earnestly as he feinted, the ever 
doughty one would have been dead of his 
dint. But Gawain glanced to one side on 
the gisarm as it came gliding down to slay 
him there in the glade, and shrank a little 
with the shoulders from the sharp iron. 
The other warrior with a quick motion 
withheld the bright weapon, and then he 
reproved the prince with many proud words. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



45 



"Thou art not Gawain," said the man, 
" who is held so good, who never liinehed 
for any army by hill nor by vale ; and now 
thou fleest for fear before thou feelest any 
harm. Such cowardice I never heard of 
that knight. I neither winced nor fled, sir, 
when thou didst strike, nor tried any tricks 
in King Arthur's house. My head flew to 
my foot, and yet I never budged; and thou, 
ere any harm taken, art fearful in heart. 
Wherefore the better man I ought to be 
called for it." 

"I flinched once," quoth Gawain, "and 
will do so no more. Yet if my head should 
fall on the stones, I cannot restore it. 

13. *' But make ready, sir, by thy faith, 
and bring me to the point. Deal to me my 
destiny, and do it promptly; for I shall 
stand thee a stroke, and not start again till 
thine axe has hit me — have here my troth." 

"Have at thee then!" quoth the other, 
and heaves it aloft, and aims as savagely 
as if he were mad. He strikes at him 
mightily, but touches the man not; for he 
withheld his hand cleverly ere it could hurt. 
Gawain awaits it properly and flinches with 
no member, but stands still as a stone, or a 
stump that is twisted into the rocky ground 
with a hundred roots. 

Then merrily spoke the man in the green: 
" So, now thou hast thy heart whole it be- 
hoves me to hit. Now keep back the fine 
hood that Arthur gave thee, and see if thou 
canst keep thy neck whole from this stroke." 

Said Gawain in great anger: " Why, thrash 
on, thou wild man ! Thou threatenest too 
long. I guess that thine own heart is timid ! " 

"Forsooth," quoth the other warrior, 
" thou speakest so fiercely that I will not 
delay thine errand a bit longer." Then he 
takes his stride to strike and knits both 
brow and lip. No wonder Gawain mislikes 
it and gives up all thought of escape. 

14. Lightly he lifts his axe and lets the 
edge come down fairly on the bare neck. 
Yet though he smote rudely, it hurt him but 
little; only cut him on one side so that it 
severed* the skin. The sharp bit reached the 
flesh through the fair fat, so that the bright 
blood shot over his shoulders to the earth. 
And when the hero saw the blood glint on 
the snow, he leaped forth more than a 
spear's length, eagerly seized his helm, cast 
it on his head, threw his shoulders under 
his fair shield, pulled out a bright sword 



and fiercely spoke. Never in this world 
since he was born of his mother was he half 
so blithe. 

"Cease, sir, of thy blow! Offer me no 
more. I liave without strife taken a stroke 
in this place; and if thou givest me more, I 
shall promptly repay and yield quickly 
again, trust thou that! Only one stroke falls 
to me here. The covenant which we made 
in Arthur's halls provided just that; and 
therefore, courteous sir, now hold ! " 

15. The warrior turned from him and 
rested on his axe. He set the shaft on the 
ground, leaned on the head, and beheld 
how the doughty hero stood his ground 
grimly, fully armed and devoid of fear. In 
his heart it pleased him. Then with a great 
voice, and a huge laugh, he spoke merrily 
to the hero: "Bold sir, in this place be not 
so savage. Nobody has here unmannerly 
mishandled thee, nor done but according to 
covenant made at the king's court. I prom- 
ised thee a stroke and thou hast it; hold 
thee well paid. I release thee of the rem- 
nant, of all other rights. If I had been skil- 
ful perad venture 1 could have given you a 
worse buffet. First I menaced you merrily 
with a pure feint, and gave thee no blow; 
which was but justice, considering the cov- 
enant which we made on the first night, and 
which tiiou held with me trustily; for truly 
all the gain thou gave me as a good man 
should. The second feint this morning, 
sir, I proffered thee, because thou didst kiss 
my fair wife and didst hand the kisses over 
to me ; for these two occasions I gave thee 
here but two bare feints without harm. A 
true man truly restores; such an one need 
dread no harm. At the third time thou 
didst fail; and so take thee that tap. 

16. "For it is my weed that thou wear- 
est, that same woven girdle. Mine own 
wife gave it thee, I know well, forsooth. 
Now know I well thy kisses, and thy vir- 
tues also. And as for the wooing of my 
wife, I managed it myself. I sent her to 
try thee, and truly it seems to me thou art 
the most faultless hero that ever went on 
foot. As a pearl is of greater price than 
white peas, so is Gawain, in good faith, 
compared with other gay knights. But in 
this case, sir, you lacked a little, and loy- 
alty failed you. But that was for no amor- 
ous work, nor wooing either, but because 
ye loved your life, — the less I blame you." 



46 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



That other brave man stood a great while 
in a study; so stricken was he for grief that 
he groaned within. All the blood of his 
breast rushed to his face; and he shrank for 
shame when the warrior talked. This was 
the first word that the man sjwke — "Cursed 
be cowardice and covetousness both! In you 
is villainy and vice, that destroy virtue." 
Then he caught at the knot and loosed the 
fastening ; fiercely reached the belt to the 
warrior himself. "Lo! there is the decep- 
tion, foul may it fall ! For fear of thy knock 
cowardice taught me to make a truce with 
covetousness, to forsake my nature, which 
is generosity and loyalty, that belong to 
knights. Now am I faulty and false, and a 
coward have ever been. From treachery 
and untruth ever come sorrow and care. 
Here I confess to yen, knight, that my con- 
duct is all faulty. Let me but please you 
now, and after I shall beware." 

17. Then the other laughed and said 
courteously: " I hold it quite remedied, the 
harm that I had. Thou hast made a clean 
confession, acknowledging all thy misdeeds, 
and hast received the penance openly from 
the point of my edge. I hold thee quit of 
that plight, and purified as clean as if thou 
hadst never forfeited since thou was first 
born. And I give thee, sir, the girdle that 
is gold hemmed. Since it is green, as is 
my gown, Sir Gawain, ye may think upon 
this same adventure where thou goest forth 
among great princes; and this shall be a 
genuine token among chivalrous knights of 
the adventure of the green chapel, and ye 
shall come again this New Year to my 
dwelling, and we shall revel the remnant 
of this rich feast full well." The lord 
pressed the invitation and said, " With my 
wife, who was your great enemy, I think 
we shall reconcile you." 

18. " Nay, forsooth," quoth the hero; 
and seizing his helm, he took it off quickly 
and thanked the warrior. " I have had a 
good visit, bliss betide you; and may He 
pay you well who directs all mercies. Com- 
mend me to that courteous one, your comely 
mate; both the one and the other, my hon- 
oured ladies, who have thus with their craft 
quaintly beguiled their knight. But it is 
no wonder that a fool should rave, and 
through wiles of women be won to sorrow. 
For so was Adam beguiled by one, and 
Solomon by many, indeed ; and Samson also, 



Delilah dealt him his weird; and David 
thereafter was deceived by Bethsheba, who 
suffered much sorrow. Since these men 
were plagued by their wiles, it were a huge 
gain to love them well and believe them 
not — if a person but could; for these men 
were of old the best, and the most fortu- 
nate, excellent above all others under the 
heavens; and all they were beguiled by 
women whom they had to do with.^ If I be 
now deceived, meseems I might be ex- 
cused. 

19. " But your girdle," quoth Gawain, 
" God reward you for it ! That will I keep 
with good will; not for the precious gold, 
nor the samite nor the silk, nor the wide 
pendants, for its wealth nor for its beauty 
nor for its fine work; but in sign of my 
fault I shall behold it oft, when I ride in 
renown I shall lament to myself the fault 
and the deceit of the crabbed flesh, how 
tender it is to catch stains of filth; and 
thus when pride shall prick me for prowess 
of arms, a look on this love-lace shall mod- 
erate my heart. But one thing I would 
pray you — may it displease you not — 
since ye are lord of the land yonder where 
I have stayed worshipfuUy with you — 
may the Being who upholds the heaven 
and sits on high repay you for it! — how 
name ye your right name ? and then no 
more." 

" That shall I tell thee truly," quoth the 
other then. *' Bernlak de Hautdesert I am 
called in this land through the might of 
Morgen la Fay, who dwells in my house. 
She has acquired deep learning, hard-won 
skill, many of the masteries of Merlin ; — 
for she has at times dealt in rare magic 
with that renowned clerk, who knows all 
your knights at home. Morgan the Goddess 
is therefore her name; no person is so 
haughty but she can tame him. 

20. " She sent me in this wise to your rich 
hall to assay its pride and try if it were 
true that circulates about the great renown 
of the Round Table. She prepared for me 
this wonder to take away your wits, to have 
grieved Guinevere and caused her to die 
through fright of that same man, that 
ghostly speaker with his head in his hand 
before the high table. That is she, the 
ancient lady at home. She is even thine 
aunt, Arthur's half-sister, the daughter of 

1 This passage is none too clear. 



SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 



47 



that Duchess of Tintagel upon whom dear 
Uther afterwards begot Arthur, that is now 
king. Therefore, I beg you, sir, to come to 
thine aunt; make merry in my house ; my 
people love thee, and I like thee as well, sir, 
by my faith as I do any man under God 
for thy great truth." 

But he answered him nay, he would in 
no wise. They embraced and kissed, each 
entrusted other to the Prince of Paradise, 
and they parted right there in the cold. Ga- 
wain on horse full fair rides boldly to the 
king's court, and the knight all in green 
whithersoever he would. 

21. Wild ways in the world Gawain now 
rides on Gringolet, he who had got the 
boon of his life. Oft he harboured in houses, 
and oft without; and many an adventure in 
vale he had, and won oft; but that I care 
not at this time to mention in my tale. The 
hurt was whole that he had got in his neck; 
and he bare the glistening belt about him, 
crossed obliquely like a baldric, the lace 
fastened under his left arm with a knot, in 
token that he was taken in a fault. And thus 
he comes to the court, the knight all sound. 
There wakened joy in that dwelling when 
the great ones knew that good Gawain had 
come; joyous it seemed to them. The king 
kisses the knight, and the queen also; and 
afterwards many a sure knight, who sought 
to embrace him and asked him of his jour- 
ney. And wondrously he tells it, confess- 
ing all the trials that he had, the adventure 
of the chapel, the behavior of the knight, 
the love of the lady — and, at the last, the 
lace. He showed them the nick in his neck 



that he caught at the lord's hands for his 
unloyalty. He grieved when he had to tell 
it; he groaned for sorrow, and the blood 
rushed to his face for shame when he de- 
clared it. 

22. " Lo ! lord," quoth the hero, as he 
handled the lace, " this that I bear in my 
neck is the badge of this blame. This is the 
evil and the loss that I have got from the 
cowardice and covetousness that I showed 
there. This is the token of untruth that I 
am taken in, and I must needs wear it while 
I may last; for none may hide his shame 
without mishap, for where it once is in- 
curred, depart will it never." 

The king and all the court comfort the 
knight. They laugh loud at his tale, and 
lovingly agree that the lords and ladies 
that belong to the Table, each knight of 
the brotherhood, should have a baldric, an 
oblique band about him of a bright green, 
and wear that for the sake of the hero. 
And that emblem was accorded the renown 
of the Round Table, and he was ever after 
honoured that had it. 

As it is told in the best book of romance, 
thus in Arthur's day this adventure betid, 
which the Brutus books bear witness of. 
After Brutus the bold hero first came 
hither, when the siege and the assault had 
ceased at Troy, many adventures of this 
sort happened. Now may He that bore the 
crown of thorns bring us to his bliss. 
AMEN. 



HONY SOIT QUI MAL PENCE. 



WILLIAM LANGLAND(?) 



THE VISION OF WILLIAM CON- 
CERNING PIERS THE 
PLOUGHMAN 

version a 

Prologue 

In a summer season, when soft was the 
sun, 

1 clad me in rough clothing, a shepherd as 
I were; 

In habit of a hermit, unholy of works, 

Went I wide in this world, wonders to hear. 

But on a May morning on Malvern Hills 

To me befell a marvel, a fairy thing me- 
thought. 

I was weary of wandering and went me to 
rest 

Under a broad bank by a burn side; 

And as I lay and leaned and looked on the 
waters, 

I slumbered in a sleep, it sounded so pleas- 
ant. lO 
Then did I dream a marvellous dream. 

That I w^as in a wilderness, wist I not 
where ; 

And as I beheld into the east, on high to 
the sun, 

I saw a tower on a hill-top, splendidly fash- 
ioned; 

A deep dale beneath, a dungeon therein, 

With a deep ditch and dark, and dreadful 
to see. 
A fair field full of folk found I there 
between. 

Of all manner of men, the mean and the 
rich. 

Working and wandering, as the world re- 
quireth. 

Some put them to the plow, and played 
full seldom, 2c 

In plowing and sowing produced they full 
hardly 

What many of these wasters in gluttony 
destroy. 

And some gave themselves to pride, ap- 
pareled them accordingly, 



In fashion of clothing strangely disguised. 

To prayer and to penance put themselves 
many. 

For love of our Lord lived they full hard, 

In hope to have the bliss of heaven's king- 
dom. 

As anchorites and hermits that hold them- 
selves in cells. 

Covet not in the country to gad all about. 

With luxurious living their body to please. 
And some chose trade, to prosper the 
better, 31 

As it seems to our sight that such men 
should; 

And some mirth to make, as minstrels can, 

And get gold with their glee, guiltless, I 
trow. 
But jesters and buffoons, Judas's chil- 
dren. 

Found for themselves fantasies and of 
themselves fools made. 

Yet have their wits at command, to work 
if they will. 

What Paul preached of them I dare not 
prove here; 

Qui loquitur turpiloquiumP- he is Lucifer's 
servant. 
Askers and beggars fast about flitted, 40 

Till their bags and their bellies brimful 
were crammed; 

Feigned for their food, fought at the ale- 
house; 

In gluttony, God wot, go they to bed 

And rise up with ribaldry, these bullying 
beggar-knaves ; 

Sleep and sloth follow them ever. 

Pilgrims and palmers pledge themselves 
together 

To seek the shrine of St. James and saints 
at Rome; 

Went forth in their way with many wise 
tales, 

An(l had leave to lie all their life after. 

Hermits in a band with hooked staves 50 

Went to Walsingham, and their wenches 
after. 

1 He who speaketh baseness. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



49 



Great lubbers and long, that loath were 

to work, 
Clothed themselves in capes to be known 

for brethren. 
And some dressed as hermits their ease to 

have. 
I found there friars, all the four orders, 
Preaching to the people for profit of their 

bellies. 
Interpreting the gospel as they well please. 
For covetousness of capes construes it ill; 
For many of these masters may clothe 

themselves at will. 
For money and their merchandise meet oft 

together. 60 

Since Charity hath turned trader, and 

shriven chiefly lords, 
Many wonders have befallen in these few 

years. 
Unless Holy Church now be better held 

together 
The most mischief on earth will mount up 

fast. 
There preached a pardoner, as he a priest 

were. 
And brought up a bull with bishop's seals, 
And said he himself would absolve them all 
From breach of fasting and broken vows. 
The laymeu liked him well, believed his 

speech. 
And came up kneeling and kissed his 

bull ; 70 

He banged them with his brevet,^ and 

bleared their eyes. 
And purchased with his parchment rings 

and brooches. 
Thus ye give your gold gluttony to help, 
And grant it to rascals that run after 

lechery. 
Were the bishop holy and worth both his 

ears. 
They should not be so brazen to deceive so 

the people. 
Yet it is not against the bishop that the 

knave preacheth; 
But the parish priest and pardoner share 

ttie silver 
That the poor parishioners should have but 

for them. 
Parsons and parish priests complain to 

their bishops 80 

That their parish hath been poor since the 

pestilence ^ time, 

1 Letter of indulgence. 
- 8 Probably the great plague of 1348-1349. 



And ask leave and licence at London to 

dwell 
To sing there for simony,^ for silver is 

sweet. 
There hang about a hundred in hoods of 

silk. 
Sergeants, it seems, to serve at the bar; 
Plead at the law for pence and for pounds, 
Not for love of our Lord unloose their lips 

once. 
Thou mightest better measure the mist on 

Malvern hills 
Than get a mum of their mouth till money 

be shown. 
I saw there bishops bold and bachelors 

of divinity 90 

Become clerks of account, the king to 

serve; 
Archdeacons and deacons, that dignity 

have 
To preach to the people and poor men to 

feed. 
Have leapt to London, by leave of their 

bishops, 
To be clerks of the King's Bench, to the 

country's hurt. 
Barons and burgesses, and husbandmen 

also, 
I saw in that assembly, as ye shall hear 

hereafter. 
Bakers, butchers, and brewers many, 
Woollen weavers, and weavers of linen, 
Tailors, tanners, and fullers also, 100 

Masons, miners, and many other crafts. 
Ditchers and delvers, that do their work ill. 
And drive forth the long day with " Dieu 

vous sauve, dame Emma."^ 
Cooks and their boys cry " Hot pies, hot ! 
Good geese and pigs, go dine, go dine ! " 
Taverners to them told the same tale 
With good wine of Gascony and wine of 

Alsace, 
Of Rhine and of Rochelle, the roast to di- 
gest. 
All this I saw sleeping, and seven times 

more. 

PASSUS I 
What this mountain meaneth, and this dark 

dale. 
And this fair field full of folk, fairly I 
shall you show. 
' Getting money singing anniversary masses for the 
dead. 



« " God save you, dame Emma ' 
lar song. 



■ apparently a popu- 



50 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



A lady lovely in face, in linen clothed, 
Came down from the cliff, and called me 

gently, 
And said, " Son, sleepest thou ? Seest thou 

these people 
All how busy they be about vanity ? 
The most part of the people that pass now 

on earth, 
If they have honour in this world, they care 

for nothing better; 
Of other heaven than here they have no 

regard." 
I was afraid of her face, though she fair 

were, lo 

And said, " Pardon, madame, what does this 

mean ? " 
" This tower and this hill," quoth she, 

" Truth is therein. 
And would that ye wrought as his word 

teacheth, 
For he is Father of faith, that formed you all 
Both with skin and with face, and gave you 

five senses 
For to worship him therewith, while ye be 

here, 
And because he commanded the earth to 

serve you each one 
With woollen, with linen, with livelihood at 

need, 
In moderate manner, to put you at ease, 
And commanded of his courtesy in common 

three things, 20 

Their names are needful and to name them 

I propose 
By rule and by reason, to rehearse them as 

follows: 
The one clothing is, from chill you to 

save, 
And the second meat at meals, against dis- 
comfort of thyself; 
And drink when thou art dry, but do it not 

out of reason 
So that thou be the worse when thou work 

shouldest. 

Dread delightful drink, and thou shalt do 
the better: 32 

Moderation is medicine, though you crave 
much. 

All is not good for the soul that pleaseth 
the body, 

Nor all food to the body that is dear to the 
soul. 

Believe not thy body, for a liar him teach- 
eth 



(That is, the wicked world) thee to be- 
tray. 
For the fiend and thy flesh follow together 
And injure thy soul — set it in thy heart; 
And that thou shouldest beware, I teach 

thee the better." 40 

" Ah, madame, merci^'' quoth I, " thy 

words please me well. 
But the money on this earth, that men so 

fast hold. 
Tell me to whom that treasure belongeth." 
" Go to the Gospel," quoth she, " that 

God speaks himself. 
When the people asked him about a penny 

in the temple. 
If they should houor therewith Caesar their 

king. 
And he asked of them of whom spake the 

lettering, 
And whom the image was like that thereon 

stood. 

* Caesar,' they said, ' we see well, each one.* 
Reddite ergo quae sunt Caesaris Caesari et 

quae sunt Dei Deo.^ 

* Then render,' quoth Christ, * what to Cae- 

sar belongeth, 50 

And what is God's to God, or else ye do 
ill.' 

For Right Reason should rule you all, 

And Common Sense be warden, our wealth 
to guard. 

And tower of our treasure to give it you at 
need; 

For husbandry and he hold well together." 
Then I asked her fairly, for [the sake of] 
him that made her, 

" That dungeon in that deep vale, that 
dreadful is to see, 

What may it mean, madame, I thee be- 
seech," 
"That is the Castle of Care," quoth she; 
" whoso Cometh therein 

May curse that he was born to body or to 
soul. 60 

Therein dwelleth a wight that Wrong is 
called, 

Father of falseness, — he founded it him- 
self. 

Adam and Eve he egged on to do ill; 

CouuFelled Cain to kill his brother; 

Judas he cheated with the Jews' silver, 

And on an elder tree hanged him after. 

He is a hinderer of love, and lieth to all 
those 

1 Matthew, xxii, 20. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



51 



That trust in their treasure, wherein is no 

truth." 
Then had I wonder in my wits what wo- 
man it might be 
That such wise words of Holy Writ me 

showed ; 70 

And I greeted her in the High Name, ere 

slie thence went, 
What she might be indeed that taught me 

so fairly. 
"Holy Church I am," quoth she, "thou 

oughtest to know me, 
I received thee first, and thy faith taught 

thee. 
Thou broughtest me pledges my bidding to 

do, 
And loyally to love me, while thy life 

lasted." 
Then kneeled I on my knees and cried 

to her for grace. 
And prayed her piteously to pray for our 

sins, 
And eke to teach me kindly on Christ to 

believe. 
That I might work the will of Him that 

made me a man. 80 

"Show me no treasure, but tell me this 

same: 
How I may save my soul, thou that holy 

art held." 
" When all treasure is tested, truth is the 

best; 
I appeal to 'God is Love ' to judge the triith. 
It is as precious a jewel as dear God him- 
self. 
For whoso is true of his tongue, and telleth 

naught else. 
Doth his work with truth, and doth no man 

ill; 
He is accounted of the Gospel, on earth and 

above, 
And also likened to our Lord, by Saint 

Luke's words. 
Clerks that know it should teach it about, 90 
For Christians and non-Christians, each 

claims it for himself. 
Kings and knights should conduct them- 
selves reasonably. 
And rightly roam the realms about, 
And take trespassers and tie them fast 
Till truth had determined the trespass to 

the end. 
For David, in his days, he dnbbed knights, 
Made them swear on their sword to serve 

truth ever, 



That is plainly the profession that per- 

taineth to knights. 
And not to fast one Friday in five score 

years, 
But to hold with men and women that 

seek the truth, 100 

And leave off for no love nor grasping of 

gifts; 
And he that oversteps that point is apostate 

of the order, 
For Christ, king of kings, knighted ten. 
Cherubim and Seraphim, seven such and 

another,! 
And gave them mastery and might, in his 

majesty. 
And over his army made them archangels, 
And taught them through the Trinity truth 

to know. 
And to be obedient to his bidding, he bade 

them naught else. 
Lucifer with legions learned it in heaven. 
He was loveliest to see, after our Lord, no 
Till he broke obedience through boast of 

himself. 
Then fell he with his fellows, and fiends 

they became, 
Out of heaven into hell hobbled fast, 
Some into the air, and some to the earth, and 

some into hell deep; 
But Lucifer lieth lowest of them all; 
For pride that he put on, his pain hath no 

end. 
And all that work wrong, wend they shall, 
After their death day, and with that devil 

dwell. 
But they that work that word that Holy 

Writ teacheth, 
And end, as I said before, in profitable 

works, 120 

May be sure that their souls shall to heaven. 
Where Truth is in Trinity and crowneth 

them all. 
For I say certainly, in view of the texts, 
When all treasure is tried, Truth is the best. 
Teach it to the ignorant, for the lettered 

know it. 
That Truth is a treasure, the finest on 

earth." 
"Yet have I no natural knowledge," 

quoth I, " thou must teach me better, 
By what power in my body it beginneth, 

and where." 
« Thou dotest, dolt," quoth she, " dull are 

thy wits. 

1 B C. A reads an al the four ordres. 



52 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



It is a natural knowledge that tells thee in 

the heart 130 

For to love thy lord liefer than thyself; 
No deadly sin to do, die though thou 

shouldest. 
This, I trow, is Truth ! Whoso can teach 

thee better 
See that thou suffer him to say it, and then 

teach it further ! 
For thus teacheth us His Word — work 

thou thereafter — 
That Love is the liefest thing that our Lord 

asketh. 
And eke the plant of peace. Preach it to 

thy harp 
Where thou art merry at thy meat, when 

men bid thee sing; 
For from the heart's own wisdom spriugeth 

the song. 
That belongs to the Father that formed 

us all, 140 

He looked on us with love, and let His 

Son die 
Meekly for our misdeeds, to amend us all. 
And yet wished He no woe to them that 

wrought Him that pain, 
But meekly with mouth mercy He be- 
sought, 
To have pity on that people that tortured 

Him to death. 
Here thou mightest see example, in Him- 
self alone, 
How He was mighty and meek, that mercy 

did grant 
To them that hanged him high, and his 

heart pierced. 
Therefore I recommend the rich to have 

ruth on the poor, 
Though ye be mighty at law, be meek in 

your works. 150 

Eadem mensura qua mensi fueritis, reme- 

cietur vobis.^ 
For the same measure that ye mete, amiss 

or otherwise, 
Ye shall be weighed therewith, when ye 

wend hence. 
For though ye be true of tongue, and hon- 
estly win, 
And eke as chaste as a child that in church 

weepeth, 
Unless ye live truly and also love the poor. 
And such good as God sent truly share. 
Ye have no more merit in mass nor in 

hours 

1 Matthew, vii, 2. 



Than Mawkin of her maidenhood that no 

man desireth. 
For James the gentle bound it in his book, 
That faith without works is feebler than 

nothing, 160 

And dead as a doornail unless the deed 

follow. 
Chastity without charity — know thou in 

truth — 
Is as useless as a lamp that no light is 

in. 
Many chaplains are chaste, who charity 

have none; 
No men than they are harder when they 

are advanced; 
Unkind to their kin and to all Christians; 
They devour their own alms and demand 

ever more- 
Such chastity without charity will be 

claimed ^ in hell. 
Curates that should keep themselves clean 

in their bodies. 
They are cumbered with care and cannot 

escape it, 170 

So hard are they with avarice clamped to- 
gether; 
That is no truth of the Trinity, but treach- 
ery of hell, 
And a teaching of laymen more grudgingly 

to give. 
For these are words written in the evangel. 
Date et dabitur vohis; ^ for I deal to you 

all 
Your grace and your good hap, your wealth 

to win, 
And therewith acknowledge me naturally 

for what I send you. 
This is the lock of Love that letteth out my 

grace 
To comfort the careworn, cumbered with 

sin. 
Love is the liefest thing that our Lord 

asketh, 180 

And eke the straight way that goeth into 

heaven. 
Therefore I say as I said before, in view of 

these texts, 
When all treasures are tried, Truth is the 

best. 
Now have I told thee what Truth is, that 

no treasure is better, 
I may no longer linger; now our Lord keep 

thee ! " 

2 B chained. 

3 Give and it shall be given unto you, Luke, vi, 38. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



53 



PASSUS II 

Yet kneeled I on my knees, and cried to 

her for grace, 
And said, " Mercy, madame, for the love 

of Mary of heaven, 
That bore the blessed babe, that bought us 

on the cross, 
Teach me the natural skill to know the 

False." 
" Look on the left hand," quoth she, " and 

see where he standeth, 
Both False and Flattery, and all his whole 

following ! " 
I looked on the left side, as the lady me 

taught ; 
Then was I ware of a woman, wonderfully 

clothed, 
Trimmed with fur, the richest upon earth. 
Crowned with a crown, the king hath no 

better. lo 

All her five fingers were furnished with 

rings 
Of the preciousest jewelry that prince ever 

wore. 
In red scarlet she rode, ribboned with gi Id, 
There is no queen more gorgeous that on 

earth quick is and alive. 
"What is this woman," quoth I, "thus 

wonderfully attired ? " 
"That is Meed,i the maiden," quoth she, 

" that hath me marred oft, 
And lied about my lore to lords about. 
In the Pope's palace she is as privy as myself; 
And so should she not be, for Wrong was 

her sire. 
Out of Wrong she sprang to misfortune of 

many. 20 

I ought to be higher than she, for I am 

better born. 
Tomorrow is the marriage made of Meed 

and False ; 
Flattery, with fair speech, hath brought 

them together. 
And Guile hath persuaded her to grant all 

his will. 
And all is by Liar's leading that they live 

together. 
Tomorrow is the marriage made, true as I 

tell thee. 
That thou might'st know, if thou wilt, what 

they all are 

1 Meed is properly reward; but the signification here 
vajies from legitimate payment to gross bribery. It is 
often best translated by "graft." 



That belong to that lordship, the great and 

the small. 
Know them there if thou canst, and keep 

thee from them all, 
If thou desirest to dwell with Truth in his 

bliss; 30 

Learn His law that is so loyal, and then 

teach it further. 
I may no longer linger, to our Lord I com- 
mend thee. 
And become a good man, spite of greed, I 

advise." 
When she was gone from me, I looked 

and beheld 
All this rich retinue that reigned with 

False 
Were bid to the bridal on both of the sides. 
Sir Simony is sent for, to seal the charters 
That False or Flattery at any price had 

got, 
And dower Meed therewith, in marriage 

for ever. 
But there was neither hall nor house that 

might harbour the people 40 

That each field was not full of folk all 

about. 
In midst of a mountain, at the hour of 

mid-morning 
Was pitched a pavilion, a proud one for the 

nonce; 
And ten thousand of tents spread out be- 
sides, 
For knights from the country and strangers 

about. 
For assizers, for summoners, for sellers, for 

buyers. 
For ignorant, for learned, for laborers in 

villages. 
And for the flattering friars, all the four 

orders, 
All to witness well what the deed desired. 
In what manner Meed in marriage was en- 
dowed; 50 
To be fastened with False, the fee was 

levied. 
Then Flattery fetched her forth, and to 

False gave her 
On condition that False shall sustain her 

forever. 
She to be obedient and ready his bidding 

to fulfil. 
In bed and at board, obedient and courte- 
ous, 
And as Sir Simony shall say, to follow his 

will. 



54 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



Now Simony and Civil Law stand forth 

both, 
Unfolding tlie dowry that Falseness made, 
And thus began these men and bellowed 

full loud: 
" This know and witness, all that dwell on 

earth, 60 

That I, Flattery, endow False with that 

maiden Meed, 
To be present in pride, for poor or for 

rich,^ 
With the Earldom of Envy ever to last, 
>^ With all the Lordship [of Lechery] 2 in 

length and in breadth; 
With the Kingdom of Covetousness I crown 

them together. 
With the Isle of Usury and Avarice the 

false, 
Gluttony and great oaths I give them to- 
gether, 
With all delights and lusts the devil to 

serve. 
With all the service of Sloth I endow them 

together; 
To have and to hold, and all their heirs 

after, 70 

With the appurtenances of purgatory, into 

the pains of hell: 
Yielding for this thing, at the year's end. 
Their souls to Satan, to send into pain. 
There to dwell with Wrong, while God is 

in heaven." 
In witness of which thing Wrong was the 

first, 
Pierce the pardoner, a Pauline doctor, 
Bett the beadle of Buckinghamshire, 
Randolph the reeve of the Rutland district, 
Taborers and tumblers and tapsters many, 
Mund the miller and many more besides. 
In the date of the devil ^ the deed was 

sealed, 8i 

In sight of Sir Simony and by notaries' 

signets. 
Then tormented was Theology when he 

this tale heard, 
And said to Civil Law, " Sorrow on thy 

head 
Such a wedding to make to render Truth 

wroth ; 
And ere this wedding be wrought, woe thee 

betide ! 
For Meed is a wealthy one, a maiden with 

goods; 

IB To he prynces in pryde and pouerte to despise. 
2 B C. 3 Presumably, in parody of Anno Domini. 



God grant us to give her where Truth will 

assign ! 
And thou hast given her to a trickster, God 

give thee sorrow ! 
The text telleth not so, Truth knows the 

sooth: 90 

Dignus est operarius mercede sua ; * 
' Worthy is the workman his hire to have; ' 
And thou hast bestowed her on False, fie 

on thy law ! 
For lechers and liars lightly thou trustest, 
Simony and thyself injure Holy Church; 
Ye shall abide it both, by God that me 

made, 
At one year's end when ye reckon shall; 
He and these notaries annoy the people. 
For well ye know, deceivers, unless your 

wits fail. 
That False is a schemer, a shirker of work, 
And a bastard born of Beelzebub's kin. 100 
And Meed is a jewelled one, a maiden of 

gentry. 
She might kiss the king for cousin, if she 

would. 
Work by wisdom and then by wit. 
Lead her to London, where law is handled, 
See if legally it be allowed that they lie to- 
gether. 
And if the justice will adjudge her to be 

joined with False. 
Yet beware of the wedding, for wise is 

Truth, 
For Conscience is of his council, and know- 

eth you each one ; 
And if he find such defect that ye with False 

hold 
It shall oppress your souls sorely at 

last." no 

To this Civil Law assented, but Simony 

would not 
Till he had silver for his advice and his seal. 
Then fetched Flattery forth florins enough. 
And bade Guile go and give gold about. 
And especially to these notaries that they 

have no lack; 
And fee False Witness with florins enough, 
For he can master Meed and make her do 

his will; 
For where falseness is often found, there 

faith faileth. 
When the gold was given, great were the 

thanks 
To False and to Flattery, for their fair 

gifts. 120 

* Luke, X, 7. 



/ 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



55 



Many came to comfort False against care, 
And swore on holy relics, " Cease shall we 

never 
Ere Meed be thy wedded wife, through 

wisdom of us all. 
For we have so mastered Meed with our 

smooth words 
That she agrees to go with a good will 
To London to look if the law will 
Judge you jointly to be joined for ever." 

Then was False fain, and Flattery blithe, 
And had all men called from the country 

about 
To array them ready, both burgesses and 

sheriffs, 130 

To wend with them to Westminster, to 

witness the deed. 
Then hunted they for horses to carry them 

thither; 
But Flattery fetched forth foals of the best, 
And set Meed on the back of a sheriff 

newly shod, 
And False on a juror that softly trotted, 
(For Falseness against the faith jurors 

seduceth, 
Through cumbering of covetousness, to 

climb over truth. 
That the faith is down trodden and falsely 

defamed, 
And Falseness is become a lord, and lives 

as he likes) : 
Flattery on a fair speech, full finely at- 
tired; 140 
For fair speech without faith is brother to 

Falseness; 
And thus jurors are summoned to serve the 

false. 
And fair speech for Flattery who many 

deceives. 
Then notaries who had no horses, annoyed 

they were 
That Simony and Civil Law should go on 

t foot. 
Then said Civil Law, and swore by the rood. 
That summoners should be saddled and 

serve them each one; 
** And have provisors appareled, in palfrey 

wise, 
Sir Simony himself shall sit on their backs, 
And all deans and sub-deans as prancers 

prepare 150 

For they shall bear bishops and bring them 

to rest. 
The people of the Paulines, for pleas in 

the consistory, 



Shall serve myself, who Civil Law am 

called; 
Put a cart saddle on our commissary, our 

cart he shall draw. 
And fetch our victuals from the fornicators; 
And make of Liar a long cart, to draw all 

these others. 
Story-tellers and frauds that on foot re- 
main." 
Now False and Flattery fare forth to- 
gether. 
And Meed in the midst, and all the crowd 

after. 
Leisure I lack to tell the train that follows 

them, 160 

Of as many manners of men as on earth 

live. 
But Guile was leader and guided them all. 
Soothness saw them well and said but little. 
But pricked on his palfrey, and passed 

them all. 
And came to the king's court, and Con- 
science told, 
And Conscience to the king repeated it 

again. 
*' Now, by Christ," quoth the king, « if I 

might catch 
False or Flattery, or any of his fellows, 
I would be wreaked on these wretches that 

work so ill, 
And have them hanged by the neck, and 

all that maintain them; 170 

No man on earth shall bail out ^ the least 

of them. 
But right as the law decides, let it fall on 

them all. 
And command the constable, that came at 

the first. 
To attack the traitors, in spite of any bribe; 
I order you to fetter False fast, in spite of 

any kind of gifts. 
And to cut off Guile's head, let him go no 

further; 
And bring Meed to me, in spite of them all. 
To Simony and Civil Law I send a warning 
That Holy Church for them is harmed for 

ever. 
And if ye catch Liar, let him not escape 180 
Being set on the pillory, in spite of any 

prayer; 
I bid thee watch for them well, let none of 

them escape." 
Dread at the door stood, and the din 

heard, 

1 B C. meynprise. A meyntene. 



56 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



And quickly went he to warn the False, 
And bade him flee fast, and his fellows too. 
Then False for fear fled to the friars, 
And Guile took to flight, in fear of death; 
But merchants met him, and made him 

abide, 
Besought him in their shops to sell their 

ware, 
Apparelled liim as a 'prentice, the people to 

serve. 190 

Lightly Liar leapt away thence, 
Lurked through lanes, lugged about by 

many. 
He was nowhere welcome, spite of his many 

tales. 
But hunted out everywhere, and ordered 

to pack. 
Pardoners had pity, and took him indoors, 
Washed him and wrung [his clothes], and 

wound him in clouts. 
And sent him on Sundays with seals to 

churches, 
And for pence gave pardon, pounds at a time. 
This learned the leeches, and letters to him 

sent. 
To dwell with them, diagnoses to make. 200 
Grocers spake with him to look after their 

wares, 
For he had skill in their craft, and knew 

many gums. 
Minstrels and messengers met with him 

once. 
And held him back half a year and eleven 

weeks. 
Friars, with fair speeches, fetched him 

thence; 
That visitors might know him not, kept him 

like a friar; 
But he hath leave to leap out, as often as 

he liketh, 
And is welcome when he will, and dwells 

with them oft. 
And all fled for fear and flew into cor- 
ners; 
Save Meed the maiden, no man dared 

abide; 210 

But, truly to tell, she trembled for fear. 
And wept, too, and wrung her hands, when 

she was arrested. 

PASSUS III 
Now is Meed the maiden taken, and no 

more of them all, 
By beadles and bailiffs, brought to the 

king. 



The king called a clerk, I know not his 

name. 
To take Meed the maiden, and make her at 

ease. 
" I shall try her myself, and truly inquire 
What man in this world would be dearest 

to her. 
And if she work by my wit, and my will 

follow, 
I shall forgive her the guilt, so help me 

God ! " 
Courteously the clerk then, as the king 

commanded. 
Took the maiden by the middle, and 

brought her to the ciiamber, 10 

There was mirth and minstrelsy to please 

Meed withal. 
Those that dwell at Westminster worship 

her all. 
Gently, with joy, the Justice soon 
Repaired to the chamber where the lady 

was. 
Comforted her kindly, and made her good 

cheer. 
And said, " Mourn thou not. Meed, nor be 

thou sorrowful, 
For we will guide the king and thy way 

shape. 
For all the craft of Conscience, and scheme, 

as I trow. 
That thou shalt have both mifrht and mas- 
tery, and do what thou likest 
With the king and the commons, and the 

court too." 20 

Mildly then Meed thanked them all 
For their great goodness, and gave them 

each one 
Goblets of pure gold, and pieces of silver, 
Rings with rubies, and riches enough. 
The least of their company a mutton ^ of 

gold. 
Then took they their leave, these lordings, 

of Meed. 
With that there came clerks to comfort 

the same: 
" We bid thee be blithe, for we be thine 

own 
To work thy will, while our life lasteth." 
Courteously then she promised them the 

same, 30 

To love them loyally and make them 

lords, 
And in consistory at court to tell their 

names. 

1 A gold coin. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



57 



" No ignorance shall hinder them, the most 

ignorant that I love, 
From being advanced ; for I am known 
Where learned clerks are left in the 

lurch." 
Then came there a confessor, caped like 

a friar; 
To Meed the maiden full meekly he bowed, 
And said full softly, as if it were in shrift, 
' ' Though learned and lay had all by thee 

lain. 
And though False had followed thee these 

fifteen winters, 40 

I shall absolve thee myself, for a load of 

wheat. 
And also be thy bawd, and bear well thy 

errand 
Among clerks and knights, to bring down 

Conscience." 
Then Meed, for her misdeeds, to that 

man kneeled. 
And shrove her of her sins, shamefully, I 

trow. 
She told him a tale, and gave him a noble — 
To be her bedesman, and her bawd after. 
Then he absolved her soon, and next to her 

said, 
" We have a window a-making, will cost us 

full dear : 
If thou woultlst glaze the gable, and grave 

therein thy name, 50 

Secure should thy soul be to dwell in 

heaven." 
"Knew I that," quoth the woman, "there 

is neither window nor altar, 
That I would n't make or mend, and my 

name write thereon, 
That each man should say, I should be sis- 
ter of your house." 
But God to all good folk such graving 

forbids, 
And saitb, Nesciat sinistra quid facial dex- 

tra : ^ 
* Let not thy left hand, late nor early. 
Be aware what thy right hand works or be- 
stows.' 
But share it so secretly that pride be not 

seen 
Neither in sight nor in soul; for God him- 
self knoweth 
Who is courteous or kind, covetous or the 

contrary. 60 

Therefore, I teach you, lords, such writing 
to leave, 

1 Matthew, vi, 3. 



The writing in windows of your good 
deeds, 

Or calling to God's people, when ye give 
your doles; 

Peradventure you have your hire for it 
here. 

For our Saviour it saith, and himself 
preacheth, 

Amen dico vobis, receperunt mercedem suam; ^ 

* Here verily they have received their re- 
ward forthwith.' 
Mayors and masters, and ye that are go- 
betweens 

'Twixt the king and the commons, to guard 
the laws, 

To punish on pillories, or on cucking-stools. 

Brewers, bakers, butchers, and cooks, 70 

For these are the men on earth that most 
harm work 

To the poor people that buy in small par- 
cels. 

They pilfer from the people privily and oft. 

And grow rich through retailing, and buy 
themselves rents 

AVith what the poor people should put in 
their bellies. 

For if they acted honestly, they would not 
build so high. 

Nor buy burgh holdings, be ye certain. 

But Meed the maiden the mayor she be- 
sought 

From all such sellers silver to take. 

Or presents, not in pence, as cups of sil- 
ver, 80 

Rings with rubies, the retailer to favor. 

" For my love," quoth the lady, " love them 
well, each one. 

And suffer them to sell somewhat beyond 
reason." 

But Solomon the sage, a sermon he made. 

To amend mayors and men that guard the 
law, 

And told them this theme that I shall tell 
now: 
Ignis devorahit tabernacula eorum qui li- 
henter accipiunt munera.^ 

Among these lettered^ men this Latin 
meaneth 

That fire shall fall and burn at the last 

The houses and the homes of them that de- 
sire 

For to have gifts in youth or in eld. 90 

2 Matthew, vi, 2. 

3 Fire shall consume the tabernacles of bribery, Jb6, 
XV, 34. 

* A lewede. 



S8 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



I 



Now be ye ware, if ye will, ye masters of 

the law, 
For the truth shall be sought of your souls, 

so help me God! 
The toleratiou that ye grant such wrongs to 

work. 
While the chance is in your choice, choose 

ye the best. 
The king came from council, and called 

for Meed, 
And sent olf quickly servants to fetch 

her. 
And brought her to the presence, with bliss 

and with joy; 
With mirth and with minstrelsy they 

pleased her each one. 
Courteously the king commenceth to tell. 
To Meed the maiden speaketh those words: 
" Unwisely, I wis, wrought hast thou oft; loi 
But worse wroughtest thou never than 

when thou False took. 
But I forgive thee this guilt, and grant 

thee my grace; 
Henceforth to thy deathday do so no more. 
I have a knight called Conscience, come 

lately from far, 
If he wish thee to wife, wilt thou him 

have?" 
** Yea, lord," quoth that lady, " Lord for- 
bid I should other ! 
Unless I bow to your bidding, hang me at 

once ! " 
Then was Conscience called to come and 

appear 
Before the king and his council, clerks and 

others. no 

Kneeling, Conscience to the king made 

obeisance, 
To know what his will was, and what he 

would do. 
** Wilt thou wed this woman," quoth the 

king, " if I will assent ? 
She is fain of thy fellowship, and would be 

thy mate." 
"Nay," quoth Conscience to the king, 

"Christ forbid it me! 
Ere I wed such a wife, woe me betide! 
She^ is frail of her flesh, fickle of her 

tongue. 
She maketh men misdo many score times; 
Trusting to her treasure, find sorrow full 

many. 
To wives and widows wantonness she 

teacheth; 120 

Learneth them lechery that love her gifts; 



Our father Adam ^ she brought down with 

fair promise; 
Poisoned popes, and impaireth Holy Church. 
There is no better bawd, by Him that me 

made! 
Between heaven and hell, in earth though 

men sought. 
She is wanton in her wishes, tale-bearing 

with her tongue, 
Common as the cart-road to knaves and to 

all; 
To priests, to minstrels, to lepers in hedges. 
Jurors and summoners, such men her praise; 
Sheriffs of shires were lost but for her. 130 
She causeth men to lose their land, and 

their lives after. 
And letteth prisoners go, and payeth for 

them oft. 
She giveth the jailer gold and groats to- 
gether. 
To unfetter the false, to flee where they 

like. 
She taketh the true by the top, and tieth 

him fast. 
And for hate hangeth him that harm did 

never. 
They that are curst in consistory count it 

not at a rush. 
For she gives capes to the commissary, and 

coats to the clerks; 
She is absolved as soon as herself it pleas- 

eth. 
She may as much do in space of one month 
As your secret seal in seven score days. 141 
She is privy with the pope, as provisors 

know; 
Sir Simony and she put seals on the bulls; 
She blesseth the bishops, though ignorant 

they be. 
Prebendaries, parsons, priests, she main- 

taineth. 
To keep lemans and concubines all their 

life days. 
And bring forth children against the laws 

forbidding it. 
Where she stands well with the king, woe 

to the realm! 
For she is favorable to False who tramples 

Truth oft. 
Barons and burgesses she brings into servi- 
tude, 150 
She bribes with her jewels, our justices she 

ruins. 



1 So Vernon 
Edward II. 



All others read Tour father; i.e. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



59 



She lietb against the law, and hindereth it 

so hard 
That faith may make no headway, her 

florins go so thick. 
She leadeth the law as she liketh, and love- 
days maketh, 
Bewilderment for a poor man, though he 

plead ever. 
Law is so lordly and loath to make an end 
Without presents or pence, it pleaseth full 

few. 
Learning and covetousness she coupleth 

together. 
This is the life of the lady, our Lord give 

her sorrow! 
And all that maintain her, mischance them 

betide! i6o 

For the poor may have no power to com- 
plain though they suffer, 
Such a master is Meed among men of 

goods." 
Then mourned Meed, and made her moan 

to the king 
To have space to speak, hoping to succeed. 
Then the king granted her grace with a 

good will: 
" Excuse thyself if thou canst, I can say no 

more; 
For Conscience hath accused thee, to dis- 
miss thee for ever." 
" Nay, lord," quoth that lady, " believe him 

the worse 
When ye know verily where the wrong 

lieth. 
Where mischief is great, lord, Meed may 

help, 170 

And thou knowest. Conscience, I came not 

to chide 
Nor to defame thy person with a proud 

heart. 
Well thou wittest. Conscience, unless thou 

wilt lie. 
Thou hast hung on my neck eleven times, 
And also grasped my gold, and given it 

where thou likedst. 
Why thou art wroth now, seems to me a 

wonder. 
For yet I can, as before, honor thee with 

gifts. 
And maintain thy manhood, more than thou 

knowest. 
And thou hast foully defamed me, before 

the king here. 
For never killed I a king, nor counselled 

thereto; 180 



Nor did I ever as thou thinkest,^ I appeal 

to the king. 
In Normandy was he not annoyed for my 

sake; 
But thou thyself, in truth, didst shame him 

there, 
Creptest into a cabin, to keep thy nails 

from cold, 
Thoughtest that winter would have lasted 

ever. 
And dreadedst to have been dead for a dim 

cloud. 
And hastedst homeward for thy belly- 
hunger. 
Without pity, pillager, poor men thou rob- 

bedest, 
And bore their brass on thy back to Calais 

to sell. 
There I stayed with my lord, his life to 

save, 190 

Made him mirth full much, to leave off 

mourning, 
Clapped them on the backs, their hearts to 

embolden, 
Made them leap for hope to have me at 

demand: 
Had I been marshal of his men, by Mary 

of heaven ! 
I durst have laid my life, and no less bet. 
He 'd have been lord of that laud, in length 

and in breadth; 
And also king of that kith, his kin to help; 
The least bairn of his blood a baron's peer. 
Truly, thou Conscience, thou didst counsel 

him thence, 
To leave that lordship for a little silver, 200 
That is the richest realm that the rain falls 

upon ! 
It becometh a king who keepeth a realm 
To give meed to men that meekly him 

serve; 
To aliens, to all men, to honor them with 

gifts. 
Meed maketh him beloved and held to be 

a man. 
Emperors and earls, and all manner of lords, 
Through gifts get young men to run and 

to ride. 
The pope and his prelates presents receive, 
And give men meed to maintain their laws. 
Servants for their service — ye see well the 

truth — 210 

Get meed from their masters as they may 

agree. 

1 A dvLst ; B demest. 



6o 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



t 



Beggars for tbeir prayers beg men for 

meed, 
Minstrels for their mirth ask for meed. 
The king gives meed to his men to make 

peace in the land; 
Men that teach children ^ meed from them 

crave. 
Priests that preach to the people to be 

good 
Ask meed and mass-pence and their meat 

too. 
All kinds of craftsmen crave meed for their 

'prentices; 
Meed and merchandise must needs go to- 
gether. 
There may no wight, as I ween, without 
meed live." 220 

" Now," quoth the king to Conscience, " by 

Christ, as methinks, 
Meed is worthy much mastery to have! " 
" Nay," quoth Conscience to the king, and 

kneeled to the ground; 
" There be two kinds of meed, my lord, by 

thy leave. 
The one good God of His grace giveth, in 

His bliss. 
To them that work well while they are 

here. 
The prophet preached it, and put in the 

Psalter, 
Qui pecuniam suam non dedit ad usuram, 

etc.2 
Take no meed, my lord, from men that are 

true ; 

;hem, 

heaven's love. 
God's meed and His mercy therewith thou 

mayst win. 230 

But there is a meed without measure 

that desireth mastery. 
To maintain misdoers meed do they take; 
And thereof saith the Psalter in the end of 

the Psalms, 
In quorum manihus iniquitates sunt ; dextra 

eorum repleta est muneribus ; ^ 
That their right hand is heaped full of 

gifts, 
And they that grasp their gifts, so help me 

God! 
They shall abide it bitterly, or the Book 

lieth. 

1 B. A knotveth clerkes. 

2 He that putteth uot out his money to usury . . . 
shall never be moved. P.<!alms, xv, 5. 

3 In whose hands is mischief, and their right hand 
is full of bribes. Fsalms, xxvi, 10. 



Priests and parsons, that pleasure desire 
And take meed and money for masses that 

they sing, 
Shall have reward in this world, as Mat- 
thew hath granted: 
Amen dico vobisy receperuut mercedem suam.^ 
What laborers and low folk get from their 

masters 240 

Is no manner of meed, but moderate hire. 
In merchandise is no meed, I may it well 

avow; 
It is a permutation, one penny for another. 
But didst thou never read Kings,^ thou re- 
creant Meed, 
Why vengeance fell on Saul and his chil- 
dren ? 
God sent to say, by Samuel's mouth. 
That Agag and Amalek, and all his people 

after, 
Should die for a deed that his ancestors 

had done. 
Against Israel, and Aaron, and Moses his 

brother. 
Samuel said to Saul, 'God sendeth thee 

commandment 250 

To be obedient and ready his bidding to 

do: 
" Wend thither with thy host women to kill, 
Children and churls, chop them to death; 
Look thou kill the king, covet not his goods 
For millions of money; mui-der them each 

one, 
Men and beasts, burn them all to ashes." * 
And because he killed not the king, as 

Christ himself commanded. 
Coveted fair cattle, and killed not his 

beasts. 
But brought with him the beasts, as the 

Bible telleth, 
God sent to say that Saul should die, 260 
And all his seed for that sin shamefully 

end. 
Such a mischief Meed made the king to 

have, 
That God hated him ever, and his heirs 

after. 
The conclusion of this clause care I not to 

show, 
In case it shonld annoy me; an end will I 

make: 
And even as Agag had it, to some will it 

happen; 

4 Yerily I say unto you, they have received their re- 
ward, 3faHhew, vi, 2. 
6 1 Samuel, xv. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



6i 



Samuel will slay him, and Saul will be 

blamed, 
David shall be diademed and daunt them all, 
And one Christian king keep us each one. 
Conscience knoweth this, for common sense 

mie taught 270 

That Reason shall reign, and realms govern; 
Meed shall no more be master on earth, 
But Love and Lowness and Loyalty to- 
gether. 
And on him that trespasseth against Truth, 

or doth against his will, 
Loyalty shall execute the law, or he shall 

lose his life. 
Shall no sergeant for that service wear a 

silk hood, 
Nor any striped robe with rich fur. 
Meed, from the misdoers, maketh men so 

rich 
That Law is become a lord, and Loyalty is 

poor. 
Unkindness is commander, and Kindness is 

banished. 280 

But Common Sense shall come yet, and 

Conscience together, 
And make of Law a laborer, such Love 

shall arise." 

PASSUS IV 
" Cease," said the king, " I suffer you no 

more. 
Ye shall be reconciled in truth, and serve 

me both. 
Kiss her," quoth the king, " Conscience, I 

command." 
"Nay, by Christ," quoth Conscience, "I 

take my leave rather ! 
Unless Reason advise me thereto, first will 

I die ! " 
" And I command thee," quoth the king to 

Conscience then, 
" That thou haste thee to ride, and Reason 

thou fetch ; 
Command him that he come, my counsel to 

hear. 
For he shall rule my realm, and advise me 

the best 
About Meed and others, and what man 

shall wed her; 10 

And take care. Conscience, so help me 

Christ ! 
How thou leadest my people, learned and 

lay." 
" I am pleased with that promise," said the 

fellow then, 



And rode right to Reason, and whispered 

in his ear, 
Said as the king sent, and then took his 

leave. 
" I shall array me to ride," quoth Reason, 

" rest thee awhile," — 
And called Cato his servant, courteous of 

speech — 
" Set my saddle upon Suffer-till-I-see-my- 

time. 
And look thou girth him well with very 

many girths; 
Hang on him a heavy bridle to bear his 

head low; 20 

Yet will he make many a neigh, ere he 

come there." 
Then Conscience on his steed rideth forth 

fast. 
And Reason with him rideth, hurrying hard, 
But on a wain Witty and Wisdom together 
Followed them fast, for they had to do 
In Exchequer and Chancery, to be dis- 
charged of things; 
And rode fast, for Reason must advise' 

them how best 
To save themselves from shame and from 

harm. 
But Conscience came first to court by a mile, 
And ran forward with Reason, right to the 

king. ^ 30 

Courteously the king then came to Rea- 
son, 
Between himself and his son set him on the 

bench. 
And consulted a great while wisely to- 
gether. 
Then Peace came to parliament, put up 

petition. 
How that Wrong against his will his wife 

had taken, 
And how he ravished Rose, Reynald's love, 
And Margaret of her maidenhood, for all 

she could do. 
" Both my geese and my pigs his fellows 

fetched away; 
I dare not for dread of them fight nor 

chide. 
He borrowed of me Bayard, and brought 

him again never, 40 

Nor any farthing for him, for aught that I 

could plead. 
He maintaineth his men to murder mine 

own, 
Forestalleth me at fairs, brawleth at my 

bargainings, 



62 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



Breaketh in my barn-door, and beareth 

away my wheat, 
And giveth me but a tally for ten quarter 

of oats. 
And yet he beat me besides, and lieth by 

my maiden; 
I am not so hardy to look him in the face." 
The king knew he said sooth, for Conscience 

him told. 
Wrong was a-feared then, and Wisdom 

sought 
To make his peace with pence, and prof- 
fered forth money, 50 
And said, " Had I love from the king, little 

would I reck 
Though Peace and his power complained on 

me ever." 
Wisdom went then, and so did Wit, 
Because Wrong had done so wicked a deed. 
And warned Wrong then, with such a wise 

tale : — 
"Whoso worketh wilfully maketh wrath oft: 
I say it about thyself, thou shalt it soon find. 
Unless Meed make it right, thy ill-luck is 

on thee. 
For both thy life and thy land lie in the 

king's grace." 
Wrong then to Wisdom wept for help, 60 
Him for his handy-dandy ^ readily he paid. 
Then Wisdom and Wit went together 
And took Meed with them, mercy to win. 
Peace put forth his head, showed his bloody 

poll: ^ 
" Without guilt, God wot, got I this harm." 
Conscience and the king knew the truth, 
Knew well that Wrong was a wicked one 

ever. 
But Wisdom and Wit were zealous and 

eager 
To overcome the king with money if they 

might. 
The king swore then, by Christ, and by his 

crown both, 70 

That Wrong for his works should woe suffer, 
And commanded a constable to cast him in 

irons : 
" He shall not these seven years see his feet 

once." 
" God wot," quoth Wisdom, "that were not 

the best; 
If he amends make, let him give surety; 
To be a pledge for his bale,^ and buy him 

boot,^ 

1 Probably, corrupt influence. 

2 Injury, harm done. 8 Redress. 



And amend his misdeed, and be always the 

better." 
Wit accorded herewith and said to him the 

same; 
" It is better that Boot should bring down 

Bale 
Than that Bale be beaten and Boot be 

ne'er the better." 80 

Then Meed humbled herself and mercy be- 
sought. 
And proffered Peace a present all of pure 

red gold: 
" Have this from me," quoth she, " to amend 

thy harm with, 
For I will wager for Wrong, he will do so 

no more." 
Peace then pitifully prayed the king 
To have mercy on that man, that harmed 

him oft; 
" Because he hath pledged me amends, as 

Wisdom him taught, 
I forgive him that guilt, with a good-will; 
So that ye assent thereto, I can no more 

say. 
For Meed hath made me amends, I may no 

more ask." 90 

" Nay," quoth the king then, " so God give 

me bliss ! 
Wrong wendeth not so away, till I wot 

more; 
Leapt he so lightly away, laugh he would 
And again be the bolder to beat my serv- 
ants; 
Unless Reason have ruth on him, he re- 

maineth in the stocks 
As long as I live, unless more love change 

it." 
Then some advised Reason to have ruth 

of that rascal, 
And to counsel the king and Conscience 

both; 
That Meed might be surety. Reason they 

besouglit. 
" Advise me not," quoth Reason, " ruth to 

have, 100 

Till lords and ladies all love truth, 
Till Peronelle's fur be put in her box. 
Till over-cherish^ children be chastened 

with rods. 
Till the holiness of ribalds be held [com- 
mon] as a hind; 
Till clerks and knights be courteous with 

their mouths 
And hate to do their ribaldry, and use it no 

more; 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



63 



Till priests their preaching prove in them- 
selves, 
And do it in deed, to draw us to God; 
Till Saint James be sought where I shall 

ordain, 
And no man go to Galicia, unless he go 
for ever; no 

i And no Rome-runners for robbers abroad 

Bear over sea silver that beareth the king's 
I stamp, 

Neither groats nor gold graven with the 
I king's crown, 

j Upon forfeit of that fee, whoever finds it at 
I Dover, 

j Unless it be a merchant or his men, or mes- 
I senger with letters, 

I Op provisors or priests that popes advance. 
i " And yet," quoth Reason, " by the rood, 
j I shall no ruth have, 

I While Meed hath any mastery to plead in 
' this hall ; 

j But I may show you examples, I say it of 
I myself. 

i For I say it for my soul's sake, if it so 
were 120 

j That I were king with crown, to keep a 
j realm, 

! Should never Wrong in this world, that I 
' might know of, 

Be unpunished by my power, on peril of my 

soul ! 
Nor get grace through gift, so help me God ! 
Nor for meed get mercy, unless meekness 
I cause it. 

I For Nullum Malum, the man, met with Im- 
i punitum, 

\ And bade Nullum Bonum be irremuneratum.^ 
' Let thy clferk, sir king, construe this in 

English; 
I And if thou workest it wisely I wager both 
I my ears 

I That Law shall be a laborer and cart dung 

! a-field, 130 

And Love shall lead thy land, as it dearly 

pleaseth thee." 

Clerks that were confessors got together 

in couples 

For to construe this clause, and explain it 

after. 
When Reason to these men rehearsed these 

words, 
Was none in that courtroom, great or small, 
That held not Reason a master there, and 
Meed a great wretch. 
1 No evil unpunished ; no good unrewarded. 



Love made light of Meed, and laughed her 

to scorn. 
And said it so loud that Soothness it heard : 
" Whoso wisheth her to wife, for wealth of 

her goods. 
Unless he be picked for a cuckold, cut off 

both mine ears ! " 140 

Was neither Wisdom then, nor Witty his 

fellow, 
That could utter a word, to gainsay Reason; 
But stared in a brown study and stood as 

beasts. 
The king accorded, by Christ, to Reason's 

cimning, 
And repeated what Reason had rightly 

shown : 
" But it is hard, by mine head, to bring it 

hereto. 
All my lieges to lead in this level way." 
" By Him that was stretched on the rood," 

quoth Reason to the king, 
" Unless I rule thus thy realm, rend out my 

ribs ! 
If it be so that obedience be at my com- 
mand." 150 
" I assent," quoth the king, " by Saint Mary, 

my lady, 
When my council is come, of clerks and of 

earls. 
But readily. Reason, thou ridest not hence, 
For as long as I live, let thee go will I not." 
" I am ready," quoth Reason, " to remain 

with thee ever; 
So that Conscience be our counsellor, care 

I for no better." 
" I grant gladly," quoth the king, " God 

forbid he fail us, 
And as long as I live, live we together." 

PASSUS V 

The king and his knights to the church 

went 
To hear matins and mass, and to the meat 

after. 
Then waked I from my winking, I was wo- 

ful withal 
That I had not heavier slept and seen more. 
Ere I a furlong had fared, a faintness me 

seized. 
That further might I not a-foot, for default 

of sleep. 
I sat softly adown, and said my creed, 
And so I babbled on my beads that it 

brought me asleep. 
Then saw I much more than I before told, 



64 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



1 



For I saw the field full of folk that I before 

showed, lo 

And Conscience with a cross came to preach. 

He prayed the people to have pity on 

themselves, 
And proved that these pestilences were for 

pure sin, 
And this southwestern wind on a Saturday 

at even 
Was clearly for pride, and for no cause 

else, 
Peartrees and plumtrees were dashed to 

the ground, 
In ensample to men that we should do the 

better. 
Beeches and broad oaks were blown to the 

earth. 
And turned the tail upward in token of 

dread 
That deadly sin ere Doomsday should de- 
stroy them all. 20 
On this matter I might mumble full long. 
But I say as I saw, so help me God ! 
How Conscience with a cross commenced to 

preach. 
He bade wasters go work at what they best 

could, 
And win what they wasted with some sort 

of craft. 
He prayed Peronelle her fur-trimming to 

leave. 
And keep it in her coffer for capital at need. 
Thomas he taught to take two staves. 
And fetch home Felice from the cucking- 
stool. 
He warned Wat his wife was to blame, 30 
That her head-dress was worth a mark and 

his hood worth a groat. 
He charged merchants to chasten their 

children. 
Let them lack no respect, while they are 

young. ^ 
He prayed priests and prelates together, 
What they preach to the people to prove it 

in themselves — 
" And live as ye teach us, we will love you 

the better." 
And then he advised the orders their rule 

to obey — 
" Lest the king and his council abridge your 

supplies. 
And be steward in your stead, till ye be 

better ordered. 
And ye that seek St. James, and saints at 

Rome, 40 



Lnst 



Seek me Saint Truth, for He can save you 

all; 
Qui cum patre etjilio, fare you well ! " 
Then ran Repentance and rehearsed this 

theme. 
And made William to weep water with his 

eyes. 

Pernel Proud-heart flung herself on 
^*® the ground, 

And lay long ere she looked up, and to Our 

Lady cried, 
And promised to Him who all of us made 
She would unsew her smock, and wear in- 
stead a hair shirt 
To tame her flesh with, that frail was to 

sin: 
"Shall never light heart seize me, but I 

shall hold me down 50 

And endure to be slandered as I never did 

before. 
And no w I can put on meekness, and mercy 

beseech 
Of all of whom I have had envy in my 

heart." 

Lecher said " Alas ! " and to Our 
Lady cried 
To win for him mercy for his misdeeds, 
Between God himself and his poor soul. 
Provided that he should on Saturday, for 

seven years, 
Drink but with the duck and dine but once. 
„ ,„ Envy, with heavy heart, asketh after 
=^^ shrift, \ 

And greatly his guiltiness beginneth to 

show. 60 

Pale as a pellet, in a palsy he seemed. 
Clothed in a coarse cloth, I could him not 

describe ; 
A kirtle and a short cloak, a knife by his 

side ; 
Of a friar's frock were the fronts of his 

sleeves. 
Asa leek that had lain long in the sun 
So looked he with lean cheeks; foully he 

frowned. 
His body was swollen; for wrath he bit his 

lips. 
Wrathf ully he clenched his fist, he thought 

to avenge himself 
W ith works or with words, when he saw his 

time. 
" Yenom, or varnish, or vinegar, I trow, 70 
Boils in my belly, or grows there, I ween. 
Many a day could I not do as a man ought, 
Such wind in my belly welleth ere I dine. 



F.TERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



63 



I have a neighbor nigh me, I have annoyed 

him oft, 
Blamed him behind his back, to bring him 

in disgrace. 
Injured him by my power, punished him full 

oft. 
Belied him to lords, to make him lose silver, 
Turned his friends to foes, with my false 

tongue ; 
His grace and his good luck grieve me full 

sore. 
Between him and his household I have 

made wrath; 80 

Both his life and his limb were lost through 

my tongue. 
When I met in the market him I most hate, 
I hailed him as courteously as if I were his 

friend. 
He is doughtier than I, 1 dare do him no 

harm. 
But had I mastery and might, I had mur- 
dered him for ever ! 
When 1 come to the church, and kneel be- 
fore the rood. 
And should pray for the people, as the 

priest teacheth us, 
Then I cry upon my knees that Christ give 

them sorrow 
That have borne away my bowl and my 

broad sheet. 
From the altar I turn mine eye and be- 
hold 90 
How Henry hath a new coat, and his wife 

another; 
Then I wish it were mine, and all the web 

wixh it. 
At his losing I laugh, in my heart I like 

it; 
But at his winning I weep, and bewail the 

occasion. 
I deem that men do ill, yet I do much 

worse, 
For I would that every wight in this world 

were my servant. 
And whoso hath more than I, maketh my 

heart angry. 
Thus I live loveless, like an ill-tempered 

dog. 
That all my breast swelleth with the bit- 
terness of my gall; 
No sugar is sweet enough to assuage it at 

all, 100 

Nor no remedy drive it from my heart ; 
If shrift then should sweep it out, a great 

wonder it were." 



Covetousness 



" Yes, surely," quoth Eepentance, and ad- 
vised him to good, 
" Sorrow for their sins saveth full many." 
" I am sorry," quoth Envy, " I am seldom 

other. 
And that maketh me so mad, for I may not 

avenge me." 

Then came Covetousness, I 
could not describe him. 
So hungry and so hollow Sir^Harvey looked. 
He was beetle-browed with two bleared 

eyes. 
And like a leathern purse flapped his cheeks; 
In a torn tabard of twelve winters' age; m 
Unless a louse could leap, I cau not believe 
That she could wander on that walk, it was 

so threadbare. 
" I have been covetous," quoth this Caitiff, 

" I admit it here ; 
For some time I served Sim at ' The Oak ' 
And was his pledged apprentice, his profit 

to watch. 
First I learned to lie, in a lesson or two. 
And wickedly to weigh was my second les- 
son. 
To Winchester and to Weyhill I went to 

the fair 
With many kinds of merchandise, as my 

master bade; 120 

But had not the grace of guile gone among 

my ware. 
It had been unsold these seven year, so 

help me God ! 
Then I betook me to the drapers, my 

grammar to learn, 
To draw the list^ along, to make it seem 

longer. 
Among these rich striped cloths learned I 

a lesson, 
Pierced them with a pack-needle, and 

pleated them together. 
Put them in a press, and fastened them 

therein 
Till ten yards or twelve were drawn out to 

thirteen. 
And my wife at Westminster, that 

woollen cloth made. 
Spake to the spinners to spin it soft. 130 
The pound that she weighed by, weighed a 

quarter more 
Than my balance did, when I weighed true. 
I bought her barley, she brewed it to sell; 
Penny-ale and white perry, she poured it 

together, 

1 The edge of the cloth, in measuring. 



66 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



For laborers and low folk, that work for 
their living. 

The best in the bed-chamber lay by the 
wall, 

Whoso tasted thereof bought it ever after, 

A gallon for a groat, God wot, no less 

When it came in cups. Such tricks I used. 

Rose the retailer is her right name; 140 

She hath been a huckster these eleven win- 
ters. 
But I swear now soothly that soon will I 
quit, 

And never wickedly weigh, nor false trade 
practise, 

But wend to Walsingham, and my wife 
also, 

And pray the Rood of Bromholm to bring 
me out of debt." 

„, ,^ Now beginneth the Glutton to go 

^^^«°^y to the shrift, 

And wanders churchwards, his shrift to tell. 

Then Bet the brewster bade him good mor- 
row, 

And then she asked him whither he would 
go. 149 

" To holy church," quoth he, " to hear mass, 

Since I shall be shriven, and sin no more." 

"I have good ale, gossip," quoth she; 
" Glutton, what say you ? " 

" Hast aught in thy purse," quoth he, " any 
hot spices ? " 

"Yea, Glutton, gossip," quoth she, "God 
wot, full good; 

I have pepper and peony-seeds, and a pound 
of garlick, 

A farthing worth of fennel-seed, for these 
fasting days." 
Then goeth Glutton in, and great oaths 
after; 

Cis the shoemaker's wife sat on the bench, 

Wat the ward of the warren, and his wife 
both, 

Tomkin the tinker and twain of his serv- 
ants ; 160 

Hick the hackney-man, and Hogg the 
needle seller, 
3 of Coc 
church. 

Sir Piers of Prie-Dieu, and Pernel of Flan- 
ders, 

Dawe the ditcher, and a dozen others. 

A fiddler, a rat-catcher, a scavenger of 
Cheapside, 

A rope-maker, a riding-boy, and Rose the 
dish-maker, 



Godfrey -..f Garlickshire, and Griffin the 
\\ elshman. 

And of tradesmen a band, early in the 
morning 

Stand Glutton, with good-will, a treat in 
good ale. 

Then Clement the cobbler cast off his 
cloak, 170 

And at " the new fair " made offer to bar- 
ter it; 

And Hick the ostier flung his hood after, 

And bade Bett the butcher act on his be- 
half. 

Then were chapmen chosen, the articles to 
value ; 

Whoso had the hood should have something 
to boot. 

They rose up rapidly, and whispered to- 
gether, 

And appraised the penny-worths, and parted 
them by themselves; 

There were oaths a-plenty, whoso might 
hear them. 

They could not, in conscience, accord to- 
gether. 

Till Robin the rope-maker was chosen to 
arise, 180 

And named for an umpire, to avoid all de- 
bate. 

For he should appraise the pennyworths, 
as seemed good to him. 
Then Hick the ostler had the cloak, 

On condition that Clement should have his 
cup filled. 

And have Hick the ostler's hood, and hold 
him well served ; 

And he that first repented should straight 
arise 

And greet Sir Glutton with a gallon of 
ale. 
There was laughing and cheating^ and 
" Let go the cup ! " 

Bargains and beverages began to arise, 

And they sat so till evensong, and sang 
some whUe, 190 

Till Glutton had gulped down a gallon and 
a gill. 

He had no strength to stand, till he his staff 

had; 
Then 'gan he to go like a gleeman's bitch, 
Sometimes to the side, sometimes to the 

rear. 
Like a man laying lines to catch birds with. 

1 A lotering ; B louryng ; C lakeryng. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



67 



When he drew to the door, then his eyes 

grew dim, 200 

He stumbled at the threshold, and threw to 

the ground. 
Clement the cobbler caught Glutton by the 

middle, 
And to lift him up he laid him on his knees; 
And Glutton was a great churl, and grim 

in the lifting, 
And coughed up a caudle in Clement's lap, 
That the hungriest hound in Hertfordshire 
Durst not lap that loathsomeness, so un- 
lovely it smacketh; 
So that, with all the woe in the world, his 

wife and his wench 
Bore him home to his bed, and brought him 

therein. 
And after all this surfeit, a sickness he 

had, 210 

That he slept Saturday and Sunday, till sun 

went to rest. 
Then he waked from his winking, and 

wiped his eyes; 
The first word that he spake was, " Where 

is the cup? " 
His wife warned him then, of wickedness 

and sin. 
Then was he ashamed, that wretch, and 

scratched his ears, 
And *gan to cry grievously, and great dole 

to make 
For his wicked life, that he had lived. 
" For hunger or for thirst, I make my vow. 
Shall never fish on Friday digest in my maw, 
Till Abstinence, my aunt, have given me 

leave; 220 

And yet I have hated her all my life-time." 

Sloth for sorrow fell down swoon- 



Sloth 



»ig> 



Till Vigilate, the watcher, fetched water to 

his eyes. 
Let it flow on his face, and fast to him 

cried, 
And said, "Beware of despair, that will 

thee betray. 
* I am sorry for my sins,' say to thyself, 
And beat thyself on the breast, and pray 

God for grace. 
For there is no guilt so great that His mercy 

is not more." 
Then Sloth sat up and sighed sore, 
And made a vow before God, for his foul 

sloth, 230 

** There shall be no Sunday this seven year 

(save sickness it cause) 



That I shall not bring myself ere day to 

the dear church, 
And hear matins and mass, as I a monk 

were. 
No ale after meat shall withhold me thence. 
Till I have heard evensong, I promise by 

the rood. 
And^ yet I shall yield again — if I have so 

much — 
All that I wickedly won, since 1 had wit. 
And though I lack a livelihood I will not 

stop 
Till each man shall have his own, ere I 

hence wend: 
And with the residue and the remnant", by 

the rood of Chester, 240 

I shall seek Saint Truth, ere I see Rome! " 

Robert the robber, on Reddite - he looked. 

And because there was not wherewith, he 

wept full sore. 
But yet the sinful wretch said to himself: 
" Christ, that upon Calvary on the cross 

died'st. 
Though Dismas ^ my brother besought grace 

of thee, 
And thou hadst mercy on that man for me- 
mento^ sake, 
Thy will be done upon me, as I have well 

deserved 
To have hell for ever if no hope there were. 
So rue on me, Robert, that no counsel 

have, 250 

Nor ever ween to win by any craft that I 

know. 
But, for thy much mercy, mitigation I be- 
seech; 
Damn me not on Doomsday because I did 

so ill." 
But what befell this felon, I cannot well 

show, 
But well I know he wept hard, water with 

his eyes. 
And acknowledged his guilt to Christ again 

thereafter. 
That the pikestaff of Penitence he should 

polish anew. 
And leap with it o'er the land, all his life- 
time, 

1 LI. 236-259, dealing with the restitution of stolen 
goods, appear in C in connection with Avarice. The at- 
taching of them to Sloth in A and B seems to point to 
some confusion in the text. Note that in A the sin of 
Wrath is omitted. 

2 Make restitution, Romans, xiii, 7. 

3 The name given to the penitent thief in the apoc- 
ryphal Gospel of Nicodermis. 

* Remember me, Luke, xxiii, 42. 



68 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



For he hath hiin by Latro,^ Lucifer's brother. 

A thousand of men then throng together, 

Weeping and wailiug for their wicked 

deeds, 261 

Crying up to Christ, and to His clean Mother, 
To give grace to seek Saint Truth, God 

grant they so might ! 

PASSUS VI 
Now ride these folk, and walk on foot 
To seek that saint in strange lands. 
But there were few men so wise that knew 

the way thither. 
But they bustled forth like beasts, over 

valleys and hills, 
F«r while they went after their own will, 

they went all amiss; 
Till it was late and long, when they a man 

met, 
Apparelled as a palmer, in pilgrim's weeds. 
He bore a staff bound round with a broad 

list 2 
In woodbine wise twisted aromid. 
A bag and a bowl he bore by his side; 10 
A hundred vials on his hat were set. 
Signs of Sinai and shells of Galicia; 
Many a cross on his cloak, and the keys of 

Kome, 
And the vernicle in front, that men should 

him know. 
And see by his signs whom he had sought.^ 
These folk asked him fairly from whence 

he came. 

1 Sinai," 

Sepulchre; 
From Bethlehem and Babylon, I have been 

in both; 
In India and in Assisi, and in many other 

places. 
Ye may see by my signs that sit on my 

hat 20 

That I have walked full wide, in wet and 

in dry. 
And sought good saints for my soul's 

health." 
"Knowest thou a holy one men call 

Saint Truth ? 
Canst thou show us the way to where he 

dwelleth ? " 

1 The word used in Luke of the crucified thieves. 

2 Edge of cloth. 

3 The references here are to the badges showing the 
shrines a pilgrim had visited : the vial or ampulla for 
Thomas of Canterbury; the scallop shell for St. James 
of Compostella in Galicia: the cross for Palestine; the 
keys and the handkerchief of St. Veronica for Rome. 
" Sinai " refers to the shrine of St. Catharine there. 



" Nay, so God gladden me," said the 

man then, 
"Saw I never palmer, with pikestaff nor 

with scrip, 
Such a saint seek, save now in this place." 
"Peter!" quoth a Plowman, and put 

forth his head, 
"I know him as naturally as a scholar doth 

his books; 
Clean Conscience and Wit showed me to 

his place, 30 

And pledged me then to serve him for ever. 
Both in sowing and in setting, while I work 

might, 
I have been his fellow these fifteen winters; 
Have both sowed his seed and tended his 

beasts. 
And also cared for his corn and carried it 

to house. 
Ditched and delved, and done what he or- 
dered, 
Within and without watched his interests; 
Among these people is no laborer whom he 

loves more, 
For though I say it myself, my service him 

pleases. 
I have my hire of him well, and sometimes 

more ; 40 

He is the promptest payer that poor men 

have; 
He withholds from no kind his hire that he 

hath it not at even. 
He is as lowly as a lamb, lovely of speech; 
And if ye will wit where he dwelleth 
I will show you the way home to his place." 
"Yea, dear Piers," said these palmers, 

and proffered him hire. 
" Nay, by the peril of my soul," quoth 

Piers, and began to swear, 
"I would not finger a farthing, for St. 

Thomas's shrine ! 
Truth would love me the less for a great 

while after ! 
But, ye that wend to him, this is the way 

thither: 50 

Ye must go through Meekness, both man 

and wife, 
Till ye come to Conscience, that Christ 

may know the truth 
That ye love him dearer than the life in 

your hearts, 
And then your neighbors next in no wise 

injure 
Otherwise than thou wouldest that men 

should do to thee. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



69 



So bend your way by a brook, Be-obedi- 

ent-in-speech, 
Forth till ye find a ford Honor-y our-f athers ; 
Wade in that water, wash yourselves well 

there, 
And ye shall leap the lightlier all your life- 
time. 
Soon shalt thou then see Swear-not-but- 

thou-have-need — 60 

And-specially-not - in-vain - take- the-name- 

of-God-Almighty. 
Then will ye come by a croft, but go ye 

not therein, 
The croft called Covet-not-men's-cattle- 

nor-their-wives- 
Nor - none - of - their - servants - that - they - 

might-be-hurt ; 
See thou break no bough there, unless it 

be thine own. 
Two stocks there stand, but stay thou not 

there, 
They are called Slay-not, Nor-steal-not ; 

strike forth by them both ; 
Leave them on thy left hand, look thou not 

after them. 
And hold well thy holy-day ever till even. 
Then shalt thou turn aside at a brook. Bear- 
no-false-witness, 70 

irnished witl 

many oaths; 
See thou pluck no plant there, for peril of 

thy soul. 
Then shalt thou see Say-sooth, so-it-is-to- 

be-done- 
And-lo(5k-that-thou-lie-not - f or-any-man's - 

bidding. 
Then shall thou come to a court, clear 

as the sun, 
The moat is of Mercy, surron n ding the man or. 
And all the walls are of Wit to hold Will 

outside; 
The battlements are of Christendom, man- 
kind to save, 
Buttressed ^ with the Belief wherethrough 

we must be saved. 
All the houses are roofed, hall and cham- 
bers, 80 
With no lead but Love-as-brethren-of-one- 

m other. 
The tower wherein is Truth is set above 

the sun. 
He may do with the day star whatever he 

pleaseth. 

1 Lit., surmounted with wooden boardings, as in 
mediaeval fortifications. 



Death dare not do anything that he for- 
biddeth. 

Grace is called the gate-guard, a good man 
in truth, 

His man is called Amend-thou, for many 
men know him; 

Tell him this as a token, for truth knows 
the sooth: 

* I performed the penance that the priest en- 
joined me; 

I am sorry for my sins, and so shall I ever 
be 

When I think thereon, though I were a 
pope.' 90 

Bid Amend-thou humble himself to his mas- 
ter once. 

To lift up the wicket gate that the way 
shut 

When Adam and Eve ate their bane; 2 

For he hath the key of the catch, though 
the king sleep. 
And if Grace thee grant to go in in this 
wise. 

Thou shalt see Truth himself sit in thy 
heart. 

Then look that thou love Him well, and 
His law hold ; 

But be well aware of Wrath, that wicked 
wretch, 

For he hath envy of Him that in thine 
heart sitteth. 

And putteth forth Pride to praise thy- 
self. 100 

Boldness in thy good deeds blindeth thine 
eyes; 

And so art thou driven out and the door 
closed. 

Locked and fastened to keep thee there- 
out. 

Haply a hundred year ere thou again en- 
ter. 

Thus mayst thou lose His love by thinking 
well of thyself. 

But get it again by Grace and by no gift 
else. 
And there are seven sisters that serve 
Truth ever. 

And are porters at posterns that to the 
place belong. 

The first is called Abstinence, and Humility 
the second. 

Charity and Chastity are two full choice 
maidens, no 

Patience and Peace many people help, 
2 B apples unrosted. 



70 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



Largess the lady leadeth in full many. 
But whoso is sih to these sisters, so help me 

God! 
Is wonderfully welcome and fairly re- 
ceived. 
And, but ye be sib to some of these seven, 
It is full hard, by my head, any of you all 
To get entrance at tiiat gate unless greater 

be the grace." 
"By Christ," quoth a cut-purse, " I have 

no kin there ! " 
"Nor I," quoth an ape-warden, "for aught 

that I know ! " 
"Certain," quoth a waferseller, "knew I 

this for truth, . 120 

I should go no foot further, for any friar's 

preaching." 
"Yes," quoth Piers the Plowman, and 

preached for their good, 
" Mercy is a maiden there and hath might 

over all; 
She is sib to all sinful men and her son also ; 
And through the help of these two (no 

other hope have thou,) 
Thou mightest get grace there, so thou go 

betimes." 

PASSUS VII 

'' This would be a wicked way, unless one 

had a guide 
Who might follow us each step, that there 

we may come." 
Quoth Perkin the plowman, " By Peter the 

apostle, 
I have a half-acre to plow, by the high- 
way; 
Were it well plowed, then with you would 

I wend, 
And show you the right way, till ye found 

truth." 
"That would be a long delay," quoth a 

lady in a veil; 
" What shall we women work at the while? " 
" Some shall sew sacks, that the wheat spill 

not. 
And ye wives that have wool, work on it 

fast, 10 

Spin it speedily, spare not your fingers. 
Unless it be a holy day, or else a holy eve. 
Look out your linen, and labor thereon 

fast; 
The needy and the naked, take heed how 

they lie. 
And cast on them clothes against the cold, 

for so Truth willeth; 



For I shall grant them livelihood, unless 

the land fail. 
As long as I live, for our Lord of Heaven's 

love. 
And ye, lovely ladies, with your long fin- 
gers. 
That have silk and sendal,^ sew when you 

have time 
Chasubles for chaplains, and churches to 

honor; - 20 

And all manner of men that by meat live 
Help him to work well that your food win- 

neth." 
" By Christ," quoth a knight then, " thou 

kuowest us best ! 
Save one time truly, thus taught was I 

never ! 
But teach me," quoth the knight; "if I can 

plow, 
I will help thee to labor while my life 

lasteth." 
"By Saint Peter," quoth Piers, "since 

thou profPerest so humbly 
I shall work and sweat and sow for us both. 
And also labor for thy love all my lifetime, 
On condition that thou keep Holy Church 

and myself 30 

From wasters and wicked men that would 

us destroy. 
And go thou and hunt hardily hares and 

foxes, 
Bears and bucks that break men's hedges, 
And fetch thee home falcons fowls to kill; 
For they come into my croft and crop my 

wheat." 
Full courteously the knight conceived 

these words; 
" By my power. Piers, I plight thee my 

troth. 
To fulfill the bargain, while I may stand ! " 
" But yet one point," quoth Piers, " I shall 

pray thee no more; 
Look thou trouble no tenant, unless Truth 

will assent: 40 

And if poor men proffer you presents or 

gifts. 
Take them not ; peradventure you may 

them not deserve ; 
For thou shalt give them back again at one 

year's end. 
In a place of sore peril that purgatory is 

called. 
And beat thou not thy bondman, the better 

thou shalt speed, 

1 A thin silken stuff. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



71 



(And be thyself true of tongue, and lying 

tales hate;) 
Unless it be wisdom or wit thy workmen to 

chastise. 
Revel not with ribalds, hear not their 

tales, 
And especially at meat such men eschew. 
For they are the devU's Tale-Tellers, I let 

thee understand." 50 

" I assent, by Saint James," said the knight 

then, 
" To work by thy word, while my life eu- 

dureth." 
"And I shall apparel me," quoth Perkin, 

"in pilgrim's wise. 
And wend with you the right way, till ye 

Truth find." 
He cast on his clothes, clouted and mended, 
His garters and his cuffs, to keep his nails 

from cold; 
He hung a basket on his back, in stead of 

a scrip; 
A bushel of bread-corn he bringeth therein: 
"For I will sow it myself, and then with 

you wend. 
For whoso helpeth me to plow, or do any 

sort of labor, 60 

He shall have, by our Lord, the more hire 

in harvest. 
And shall make merry with the corn, who- 
ever begrudgeth. 
And all kinds of craftsmen that can live 

with Truth, 
I shall find them their food, if they faith- 
fully live. 
Save Jack the juggler, and Janet of the 

stews. 
And Robert the ribald, for his filthy words. 
Truth taught it me once, and bade me tell 

it further, 
Deleantur de libro,^ I should not deal with 

them. 
Holy Church is bound from them no tithe 

to take; 
Et cum justis non scribantur ^ 
They have escaped by good luck ; ^ may 

God amend them ! " 70 

Dame Work-when-there-is-time is the 

name of Piers's wife; 
His daughter is called Do-right-so-or-thy- 

mother-will-beat-thee ; 

1 "Let them be stricken out from the book [of the 
living]," Psalms, Ixix, 28. 

2 " And let them not be written with the just." 
Ibid. 

' 3 A Thei ben a-scaped good thrift. 



His son is called Suffer-thy-sovereigns-to- 

h ave-their-will- 
And-judge- them -not, - for-if-thou-do-thou- 

shalt-dearly-pay-for-it. 
" May God be with all, for so his word 

teacheth ; 
For now I am old and gray, and have of 

my own, 
To penance and to pilgrimage I will pass 

with these others. 
Therefore I will, ere I wend, write my 

testament. 
In Dei nomine, amen. I make it myself. 
He shall have my soul that best hath de- 
served it, 80 
And defend it from the fiend, for so I believe, 
Till I come to my account, as my creed me 

telleth, 
To have release and remission on that 

rental I expect. 
The church shall have my corpse, and keep 

my bones; 
For of my corn and capital she craveth the 

tenth. 
I paid her promptly, to save my soul from 

peril. 
She is bound, I hope, to bear me in mind. 
And remember me in her memory among 

all Christians. 
My wife shall have what I won with 

truth, and no more. 
And divide with my friends and my dear 

children; 90 

For though I die this day my debts are 

cleared; 
I bare home what I borrowed ere I to bed 

went: 
And with the residue and the remnant, by 

the rood of Chester ! 
I will worship therewith Truth in my life. 
And be his pilgrim at the plow, for poor 

men's sake. 
My plough-foot ^ shall be my pikestaff and 

push at the roots. 
And help my coulter to carve and close the 

furrows." 
Now have Piers and the pilgrims to the 

plow gone. 
To plow this half-acre help him full many. 
Ditchers and del vers dug up the ridges; ^ 100 
Therewith was Perkin pleased, and praised 

them gladly. 

< A pJouh-pote (j)o^e;z: pusher). B plou-fote ; C 
plouh-fote, plough-foot, 
s Left unplowed. 



72 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



Other workmen there were that wrought 

full many, 
Each man in his manner made himself 

work; 
And sum, to please Perkin, picked up the 

weeds. 
At high prime ^ Perkin let the plough 

stand. 
While he himself oversaw who had best 

wrought ; 
He should be hired thereafter, when har- 
vest-time came. 
Then sat some, and sang at the ale, 
And helped him to plow with "Hey, trolly- 
lolly ! " 
" Now, by the Prince of Paradise," quoth 

Piers then in wrath, no 

" Unless ye rise the sooner and haste ye to 

work. 
Shall no grain that here groweth gladden 

you at need, 
And though ye die for lack of it, the devil 

take him that cares ! " 
Then were the rogues afraid and feigned 

themselves blind. 
Some laid their legs across as such scoun- 
drels can, 
And complained to Piers, with such piteous 

words: 
" For we have no limbs to labor with, our 

Lord we thank for it; 
But we pray for you, Piers, and for your 

plow too, 
That God of his grace oar grain multiply, 
And reward you for your alms that ye give 

us here ! 120 

For we may neither work nor sweat, such 

sickness us aileth." 
*' If it be truth that ye say," quoth Piers, 

" soon I shall spy it ! 
Ye be wasters, I wot, and Truth knows the 

sooth ! 
I am his old servant, and ought him to warn 
What wasters in the world his workmen 

destroy. 
Ye eat what they should eat that plough 

for us all; 
But Truth shall teach you his team to drive. 
Both to sow and to set, and save his pro- 
duce. 
Scare crows from his corn, and keep his 

beasts, 
Or ye shall eat barley bread, and of the 

brook drink. 130 

1 Nine o'clock in the morning. 



But if they be blind or broken-shanked, or 

bedridden lie. 
They shall have as good as I, so help me 

God, 
Till God of his grace cause them to arise. 
Anchorites and hermits that keep to their 

cells 
Shall have of my alms, all the while I live, 
Enough each day at noon, but no more till 

tomorrow, 
Lest the fiend and their flesh should defile 

their souls; 
Once at noon is enough for him that no 

work doeth. 
He abides in better state that tastes not too 

often." 
Then wasters arose, and would have 

fought; 140 

To Piers the Plowman one proffered his 

glove, 
A Breton, a braggart, boasted himself also, 
And bade him go hang with his plow, bald- 
headed wretch ! 
*' For we will have of thy flour, willy nilly, 
And take of thy meat when that us pleaseth, 
And make us merry therewith, spite of thy 

face ! " 
Then Piers Plowman complained to the 

knight. 
To guard him as agreed from cursed 

wretches. 
From wasters that lie in wait winners to 

rob. 
Courteously the knight, as his nature 

was, 150 

Warned wasters and taught them to do 

better; 
" Or ye shall pay dearly by the law, by the 

order that I bear! " 
" I was not wont to work," quoth the waster, 

" I will not begin now! " 
And recked little of the law, and less of 

the knight. 
And counted Piers worth a pea, and his 

plow too. 
And menaced him and his men, when they 

should next meet. 
" Now by the peril of my soul," quoth Piers 

the Plowman, 
"I shall punish you all for your proud 

words!" 
And whooped after Hunger then, that heard 

him at once : 
" Wreak me on these wasters," quoth Piers, 

" that this world rob ! " 160 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



73 



Hunger in haste seized waster by the maw, 
And wrung him so by the belly that both 

his eyes watered, 
And buffeted the Breton on both his 

cheeks; 
He looked like a lantern all his life after. 
He so beat the boys he nigh burst their 

ribs. 
Had not Piers with a pease-loaf prayed him 

to cease; 
And with a bag ^ of beans beat them both, 
And hit Hunger therewith between his lips. 
And he bled inwards a bowlful of gruel ; 
Had not the physician first forbidden him 

water 170 

To moisten the barley-bread and the ground 

beans, 
They had been dead by this day, and buried 

all warm. 
Then rogues for fear flew to barns, 
And laid on with flails, from morn till even. 
So that Hunger was not hardy enough even 

to look up 
For a potf ul of pease that Piers had made. 
A band of hermits seized hold of spades. 
And delved in dirt and dung to drive Hun- 
ger out. 
Blind and bedridden were cured a thou- 
sand, 
That lie as blind and as broken-legged 180 
Upon a warm Sunday by the highway; 
Hunger killed them with a hot cake. 
Lame man's limbs were rendered lithe that 

time. 
And they became herds, to keep Piers's 

beasts, 
And prayed, for charity, with Piers to 

dwell. 
All for craving of his corn, to cast out 

Hunger. 
Piers was proud thereof, and put them in 

office. 
And gave them meat and money, as they 

might deserve. 
Then had Piers pity, and prayed Hunger to 

wend 
Home to his own hearth,^ and hold himself 

there forever. 190 

" And yet I pray thee," quoth Piers, " ere 

thou pass hence. 
With vagabonds and beggars what is best 

to do? 
I wot well, when thou art gone, they will 

work full ill; 
1 A bai. 8 A hurde, earth ; B erde; C erihe. 



It is misfortune maketh them to be now so 

meek, 
And for lack of food thus fast do they work; 
And they are my blood brethren, for God 

bought us all. 
Truth taught me once to love them each 

one. 
And help them in all things, according as 

they need. 
Yet would I know if thou knewest what 

were the best, 
And how I might master them, and make 

them work." 200 

"Hear now," quoth Hunger, "and hold it 

for wisdom. 
Bold beggars and rascals that may earn 

their meal by work. 
With hound-bread and horse-bread hold up 

their hearts, 
And cheat them with bones ^ against swell- 
ing of their bellies; 
And if the fellows grumble, bid them go 

work. 
And they shall sup the sweeter when they 

have it deserved. 
And if thou find any fellow that fortune 

hath harmed 
With fire or with false folk, try such to 

know; 
Comfort them with thy means, for Christ 

of heaven's love. 
Love them and lend to them, so the law of 

nature wills. 210 

And all manner of men, that thou mayest 

spy, 

That are needy, or naked, and nought have 

to spend. 
With meat or with money make them fare 

the better. 
With word or with work while thou art 

here. 
Make friends with such, for so Saint Mat- 
thew teacheth, 
Facilevohis amicos de mammona iniquitatisy ^ 
"I would not grieve God," quoth Piers, 

" for all the gold on ground ; 
Might I do as thou sayest without sin ? " 

said Piers then. 
" Yea, I promise thee," quoth Hunger, " or 

else the Bible lieth; 
Go to Genesis the giant, the engenderer of 

us alle; 
' A bamme hem with bones ; B abate him with benes ; 
C a-bane hem with benes. 

* Make for yourselves friends of the mammon of un- 
righteousness, Luke, zvi, 9. 



74 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 






' In sweat and swiuk thou shalt earn thy 
rneat,^ 220 

And labor for thy livelihood,' for so our 
lord ordered. 

And Sapience said the same, I saw it in the 
Bible. 

* Piger propter frigus,^ no field he till, 

He shall crave and beg, and no man abate 
his hunger.' 
Matthew of the man's face ^ uttereth 
these words, 

* The unprofitable servant had a talent, and 

because he would not use it 
He had ill-will of his master evermore 

after ' ; 
Auferte ah illo unam, et date illi, etc.,^ 
He took from him his talent, for he would 

not work. 
And gave it in haste to him that had ten 

before ; 
And afterwards he thus said, his servants 

it heard, 230 

* He that hath shall have, to help where 

need is. 

And he that hath not, nought shall have, nor 
no man help him; 

And he that hopeth to have, from him it 
shall be taken away.' 

For Common Sense would that each man 
should work. 

By teaching or by tillage, or travailing with 
hands. 

Active life or contemplative; Christ would 
so also. 

For so saith the Psalter, in the psalm be- 
ginning, ' Blessed is everyone,' 
Lahores manum tuaruin quia manducahiSf 
etc.^ 

To him that gets his food here, with travail- 
ing in truth, 

God gives his blessing, for his livelihood 
that laboreth." 

*' Yet I pray thee," quoth Piers, "for char- 
ity, if thou knowest 240 

Any leaf of leechcraft, let me learn it, my 
dear. 

For some of my servants are sick at times, 

1 Genesis, iii, 19. 

* The slotlifui shall not plow by reason of the winter, 
Proverbs, xx, 4. 

> " An allusion to a common representation of the 
evangelists which likens Matthew to a man, Mark to 
a lion, Luke to a brtil, and John to an eagle.'''' Skeat. 

< Take ye away the talent from him, and give to him, 
etc. Matthew, xxv, 28. 

5 For thou Shalt eat the labor of thine hands, Psalms, 
cxxviii, 2. 



Work not for a week, so acheth their belly." 
" I wot well," quoth Hunger, " what sick- 
ness aileth them; 
They have eaten in excess, that maketh 

them groan oft. 
But I command thee," quoth Hunger, " if 

health thou desirest. 
That on no day thou drink till thou hast 

had some dinner; 
Eat not, I command thee, till Hunger take 

thee 
And send thee some of his sauce, the better 

to savor; 
Keep some till supper-time, and sit not too 

long, 250 

Arise up ere appetite have eaten his fill. 
Let not Sir Surfeit sit at thy board; 
Love him not, for he is a lecher, and lewd 

of tongue. 
And after many meats his maw is a-longing. 
And if thou diet thyself thus, I dare bet 

both mine ears 
That Physic shall his furred hood for his 

food sell. 
And eke his Calabrian ^ cloak with buttons 

of gold. 
And be fain, by my faith, his physic to 

leave. 
And learn to labor on the land, lest liveli- 
hood fail. 
There are more liars than leeches, cor Lord 

them amend! 260 

They do men to death by their drink, ere 

destiny would." 
" By Saint Paul," quoth Piers, " these be 

profitable words! 
This is a lovely lesson; our Lord reward 

thee for it ! 
Away now when thou wilt; be it well with 

thee ever! " 
" I promise thee," quoth Hunger, " hence 

will I not wend 
Ere I have dined this day, and drunk too." 
" I have no penny," quoth Piers, " puUets to 

buy. 
Neither geese nor pigs, but two green ' 

cheeses. 
And a little curds and cream, and im- 

leavened cake, 
And a loaf of beans and bran, baked for my 

children. 270 j 

And I say, by my soul, I have no salt bacon, 
Nor any cook-boys, by Christ, collops to 

make. 
6 Trimmed with grey Calabrian fur. "> Fresh made. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



75 



But I have onions and parsley, and many 

cabbages, 
And eke a cow and a calf, and a cart-mare 
To draw a-field my dung, while the drought 

lasteth. 
By these means must I live till Lammas 

time; 
By that time I hope to have harvest in my 

croft ; 
Then may I prepare thee dinner as thou 

dearly likest it." 
All the poor people pease-cods fetched. 
Beans baked into bread they brought in 

their laps, 280 

Little onions their chief meat, and ripe 

cherries many, 
And profPered Piers this present, to please 

his hunger with. 
Hunger ate this in haste, and asked after 

more. 
Then these folk for fear fetched him many 
Onions and pease, for they him would please ; 
After these were eaten, he must take his 

leave 
Till it was near to harvest, when new corn 

came to market. 
Then were these folk fain, and fed 

Hunger eagerly 
With good ale and gluttony, and caused 

him to sleep. 
And then would not the waster work, but 

waudered about, 290 

Nor any beggar eat bread that had beans 

in it, 
But cocket and clearmatin,^ and of clean 

wheat; 
Nor any halfpenny ale in any wise drink, 
But of the best and the brownest that brew- 
ers sell. 
Laborers that have no land to live by, 

but only their hands, 
Deign not to dine today on yesterday's 

vegetables. 
No penny-ale may please them, nor a piece 

of bacon, 
Unless it were fresh flesh, or else fried fish. 
Hot and very hot, lest they chill their 

stomachs. 
Unless he be hired at a high price, he will 

surely chide, 300 

Call curses on the time that he was made 

a workman. 
And curse the king hard, and all his council 

after 

1 Kinds of fine bread. 



For enforcing such laws as chastise la- 
borers. 
But while Hunger was master here there 
would none chide 

Nor strive against the statutes, so stern 
they looked. 
I warn you all, workmen, win while ye 
may; 

Himger hitherward again hieth him in haste. 

He will awake with high-waters ^ the 
wasters all; 

Ere five years are fulfilled, such famine shall 
arise. 

Through floods and foul weather fruits shall 
fail ; 3 10 

And so saith Saturn, and sendeth us warning. 

PASSUS VIII 

Truth heard tell hereof, and to Piers sent 
To take his team, and till the earth; 
And purchased him a pardon a poena et a 

culpa,^ 
For him and for his heirs, for evermore 

after. 
And bade him stay at home, and plow his 

leas. 
And all that ever helped him, to plow or to 

sow, 
Or any kind of task that might Piers help, 
Part in that pardon the Pope hath granted. 
Kings and knights that guard Holy 

Church, 
And rightfully rule the realm and the 

people, 10 

Have pardon through Purgatory to pass 

full soon. 
With patriarchs in Paradise to play there- 
after. 
Bishops that bless, and both the laws* 

know, 
Look on the one law and teach men the 

other. 
And bear them both on their backs, as their 

banner showeth. 
And preach to their parsons the peril of sin, 
How their scabbed sheep shall their wool 

save. 
Have pardon with the Apostles when they 

pass hence, 
And at the Day of Doom with them on dais 

sit. 
Merchants, in the margin, had many 

years' remission, 20 

2 Floods. s From punishment and guilt. 

* Duty to God and duty to man. 



76 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



I, anOF 



But not a poena et a culpa would the Pope 

them gi-cant. 
Because they hold not their holy-day as 

Holy Church teacheth, 
And because they swore by their souls — 

" so help them God ! " — 
Against their clean conscience, their goods 

to sell. 
But under his secret seal Truth sent a 

letter, 
And bade them buy boldly what they liked 

best. 
And then sell it again, and save the win- 
ning, 
And make maison-dieux'^ therewith, the sick 

to help, 
And wicked customs vigorously amend; 
Build again bridges that broken were, 30 
Help to marry maidens or make them nuns; 
Poor widows that would not be wives again, 
Find such their food, for love of God of 

heaven ; 
Let scholars to school, or to some other 

craft. 
Assist"^ religion, and endow it better; 
" And I shall send you myself Saint Michael, 

my angel. 
That no devil shall harm you, when you shall 

die, 
And hinder me from sending your souls safe 

into heaven, 
And before the face of my father prepare 

your seats. 
Usury and avarice and oaths I forbid, 40 
That no guile go with you, but the grace of 

truth." 
Then were merchants merry, they wept 

for joy. 
And give Will for his writing woolen 

clothes; 
Because he copied thus their clause, they 

gave him great thanks. 
Men of law had least, for they are loath 
To plead for mean men, unless they get 

money; 
So saith the Psalter and Sapience also. 
Super innocentes munera non accipiunt. A 

regihus et principibus erit merces 

eorum.^ 
From princes and prelates their pension 

should come. 
And from the poor people no pennyworth 

should they take. 

1 Hospitals. 2 A Rule; B C Eelew. 

8 Psalms, XV, 9. 



But he that spendeth his speech, an 

speaketh for the poor man, 50 

Who is iimoceut and needy, and no man 

hath harmed, 
That comforteth him in misfortune, covet- 

eth not his goods. 
But, for our Lord's love, law for him 

showeth. 
No devil, at his death-day, shall harm him 

a mite. 
That he be not secure and safe; and so 

saith the Psalter. 
Quifacit haec, non movehitur in eternum.* 
But to buy water, or wind, or wit (the third 

thing), 
Holy Writ would never grant, God knows 

the truth! 
These three as thralls have grown among 

us all. 
To wax or to wane, whichever God liketh. 
His pardon in purgatory is petty, I trow, 60.^ 
Who any pay from poor men for pleading 

receiveth. 
Ye lawmakers and lawyers, ye know 

whether I lie ; 
Since ye see that it is so, serve at your best. 
Living laborers, that live by their hands, 
That truly give and truly pay their tithes 
And live in love and in law for their lowly 

hearts, 
Had the same absolution that sent was to 

Piers. 
Askers and beggars are not in the bull, 
Unless the suggestion be sound that causes 

them to beg. 
For he that beggeth or asketh, unless he 

have need, 70 

He is false as the fiend, and def raudeth the 



And also beguileth the giver, all against his 
will. 

They live not in love, nor any law keep; 

They wed no women that they have to do 
with ; 

But as wild beasts wickedly work together, 

And bring forth bairns that bastards are 
held. 

Either their backs or their bones they 
break in their youth. 

And go begging with their children ever- 
more after. 

There are more misshapen among them, 
whoso takes heed, 

* He that doeth these things shall never be moved, 
Fsalms, xv, 5. 



PIERS THE PLOUGHMAN 



77 



Than of all other men that in the world 

wa^ider. 80 

They that live their life thus may loath the 

time 
That ever they were created men, when 

they shall hence fare. 
But old men and hoary, that helpless are 

in strength, 
And women with child, that cannot work. 
The blind and bedridden, with broken limbs, 
That take sickness meekly, like lepers and 

others. 
Have as full pardon as the Plowman him- 
self; 
For love of their humble hearts our Lord 

hath them granted 
Their penance and their purgatory to have 

here upon earth. 
" Piers," quoth a priest then, " thy par- 
don must I read, 90 
-For I will construe every clause, and know 

it in English." 
And Piers, at his praver, the pardon un- 

foldeth. 
And I, behind them both, beheld all the 

bull. 
In two lines it lay, and not a letter more, 
And was written right thus, in witness of 

truth : 
Et qui bona egerunt, ibunt in viam eternam; 
Qui verp mala, in ignem eternum.'^ 
" Peter! " quoth the priest then, "I can no 

pardon find, 
But 'Do well and have well, and God shall 

have thy soul; 
And do evil and have evil, hope thou none 

other 
But that after thy death-day to hell shalt 

thou wend!'" 
And Piers, for pure vexation, pulled it 

asunder, 100 

And then he said to them these seemly 

sayings: 
" Si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis, non 

timebo mala, quoniam iu mecum es.^ 
I shall cease from my sowing," said Piers, 

" and work not so hard. 
Nor about my livelihood so busy be more! 
In prayer and in penance my plowing shall 

be hereafter, 

1 And those who did good shalt go into eternal life ; 
but who did evil, into eternal fire. Cf . Matthew, xxv, 
46. 

2 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me, 
Psalms, xxiii, 4. 



And lower where I laughed, ere my life fail. 
The prophet his bread ate in penance and 

weeping; 
As the Psalter says to us, so did many 

others ; 
Who loveth God loyally, his livelihood is 

plentiful: 
Fuerunt mihi lacrimae meae panes, die ac 

nocte.^ 
And, unless Luke lies, he teacheth us an- 
other. 
That too busy we should not be, here upon 

earth, no 

While we dwell in this world, to make glad 

the belly. 
Ne soliciti sitis,^ he saith in his gospel. 
And showeth it by example our souls to 

guide. 
The fowls in the firmament, who feedeth 

them in winter ? 
When the frost freezeth, food they require; 
They have no granary to go to, yet God 

gives them all." 
" What ? " quoth the priest to Perkin, " by 

Peter! as niethinketh. 
Thou art lettered a little; who taught thee 

to read ? " 
"Abstinence the abbess mine ABC me 

taught, 
And Conscience came after and showed me 

better." 120 

"Were thou a priest," quoth he, "thou 

mightest preach when thou couldst; 

* Quoniam literaturam non cognovi, ^ might 

be thy theme! " 
"Lewd losel!" quoth he, "little lookest 

thou on the Bible, 
Solomon's sayings seldom thou beholdest; 

* Sling away these scorners,'he saith, ' with 

their vile scolding, 
For with them readily I care not to rest;' 
Ejice derisores etjurgia cum eis, ne crescantV^ 
The priest and Perkin then disputed to- 
gether. 
And through their words I awoke, and 

waited about, 
And saw the sun in the south just at that 
time. 129 

Meatless and moneyless on Malvern hills. 
Musing on this dream, a mile length I went. 

3 My tears have been my meat day and night, 
Psalms, xlii, 3. 

4 Be not anxious, etc.. 3Iattheu\ vi, 25. 

5 For I have known no learning, Psalms, Ixxi, 15 
(Vulgate). 

6 Proverbs, xxii, 10 (translated in previous lines). 



78 



WILLIAM LANGLAND 



Many a time this dream has made me to 
study 
For love of Piers the Plowman, full pen- 
sive in my heart; 
For it I saw sleeping, if such a thing might 

be. 
But Cato construeth it nay, and the canon- 
lawyers too, 
And say themselves, " Somnia ne cures." ^ 
But as for the Bible, bear witness how 
Daniel divined the dreams of a king, 
Whom Nebuchadnezzar^ these clerks name. 
Daniel said, " Sir King, thy dream means 
That strange knights shall come thy king- 
dom to claim; 141 
Among lower lords thy land shall be di- 
vided." 
As Daniel divined, it fell out indeed after. 
The king lost his lordship, and lesser men 
it had. 
And Joseph dreamed dreams, full mar- 
velous also, 
How the sun and the moon and eleven stars 
Fell before his feet and saluted him all. 
^'■Beaujilsy" quoth his father, "for famine 

we shall, 
I myself and my sons, seek thee in need." 
It fell out as the father said, in Pharaoh's 
time, 150 

Where Joseph was justice, Egypt to keep. 

All this maketh me on dreams to think 
Many a time at midnight, when men should 

sleep. 
On Piers the plowman, and what sort of 

pardon he had, 
And how the priest impugned it, all by pure 

reason. 
And divined that Do-well surpassed an in- 
dulgence, 
Bienals and trienals ^ and bishops' letters. 
Do-well on doomsday is worthily praised, 
He surpasseth all the pardons of St. Peter's 

church. 
Now hath the Pope power pardon to grant. 
The people without penance to pass into 
joy. 161 

1 Take no heed of dreams, Dionysius Cato, Distich, 
ii, 31. 

2 Really Belshazzar, as Skeat shows. Daniel, v, 28. 
s Masses for the dead said for two and three years. 



This is a part of our belief as learned men 
teach us, 
Quodcunque ligaveris super terram, erit 
ligatum et in coelis.^ 

And so believe I loyally (our Lord forbid I_ 
should other) 

That pardon and penance and prayers do 
save 

Souls that have sinned seven times deadly. 

But to trust to trienals truly methinketh 

Is not so secure for the soul, certes, as Do- 
well. 

Therefore I counsel you men that are rich 
on earth, 

Trusting by your treasure trienals to have, 

Be ye none the bolder to break the ten com- 
mandments. 170 
And especially ye mayors, and ye master 
judges, 

That have the wealth of this world, and for 
wise men are held. 

To purchase pardon and the Pope's bulls, 

At the dreadful day of doom, when the dead 
shall arise 

And come all before Christ, and accounts 
yield 

How thou leddest thy life, and his law kept- 
est. 

What thou didst day by day, the doom will 
rehearse ; 

A pouchf ul of pardon there, with provincial 
letters, 

Though thou be found in fraternity among 
the four orders. 

And have indulgence doubled, unless Do- 
well thee help, 180 

I would not give for thy pardon one pie-heel ! 

Therefore I counsel all Christians to cry 
Christ mercy. 

And Mary his mother to be their intercessor, 

That God give us grace, ere we go hence, 

Such works to work, while we are here. 

That after our death-day, Do-well rehearse, 

At the day of doom, that we did as he us 
told. 

Explicit hie Visio Willelmi de Petro de 
Ploughman. 

* "What things soever ye shall bind on earth shall be 
bound in heaven, Matthew, xviii, 18. 



JOHN GOWER 



THE TALE OF FLORENT^ 

{Confessio Amantis, bk. i, 1. 1407) 

Ther was whilom be dales olde 
A worthi knyht, and as men tolde 
He was nevoeu to themiperour 
And of his court a courteour: 
Wifles he was, Florent he hihte ; 
He was a man that mochel myhte;^ 
Of armes he was desirous, 
Chivalerous and amorous; 
And for the fame of worldes speche, 
Strange. aventures forto seche, 10 

He rod the Marches al aboute. 
And fell a time, as he was oute, 
Fortune, which may every thred 
Tobreke and knette of mannes sped,^ 
Schop,4 as ^l^js knyht rod in a pas,^ 
That he be strengthe take was, 
And to a castell thei him ladde, 
Wher that he fewe frendes hadde : 
For so it fiell that ilke stounde 
That he hath with a dedly woimde 20 

Feihtende ^ his oghne hondes slain 
Branchns, which to the Capitain 
Was sone and heir, wherof ben wrothe 
The fader and the moder bothe. 
That knyht Branchns was of his bond 
The worthieste of al his loud, 
And fain thei wolden do vengance 
Upon Florent; bot remembrance 
That thei toke of his worthinesse 
Of knyhthod and of gentilesse, 30 

And how he stod of cousinage 
To themperour, made hem assuage, 
And dorsten noght slen him for fere : 
In gret desputeisoun thei were 
Among hemself , what was the beste. 
Ther was a lady, the slyheste 
Of alle that men knewe tho. 
So old sche myhte unethes go,"^ 

1 On the versions of this fine old story see G. H. May- 
nadier's Wife of BaWs Tale in the Grimm Library, 
London, 1901. 

2 who could perform much. 

3 Break asunder and restore again of man's luck. 
* Brought it about. 5 at a walk. 

6 "We should supply " with." ^ scarcely walk. 



And was grantdame unto the dede : ^ 

And sche with that began to rede, 40 

And seide how sche wol bringe him inne, 

That sche schal him to dethe winue 

Al only of his oghne grant, 

Thurgh strengthe of verray covenant 

Withoute blame of eny wiht. 

Anon sche sende for this kniht, 

And of hire sone sche alleide^ 

The deth, and thus to him sche seide : 

* Florent, how so thou be to wyte ^^ 

Of Branchns deth, men schal respite 50 

As now to take vengement, 

Be so thou stonde in jnggement 

Upon certem condicionn, 

That thou unto a questioun 

Which I schal axe schalt ansuere ; 

And over this thou schalt ek swere, 

That if thou of the sothe faile, 

Ther schal non other thing availe. 

That thou ne schalt thi deth receive. 

And for men schal the noght deceive, 60 

That thou therof myht ben advised. 

Thou schalt have day and tyme assised 

And leve saufly forto wende, 

Be so that at thi daies ende 

Thou come ayein with thin avys.' 

This knyht, which worthi was and wys, 
This lady preith that he may wite, 
And have it under scales write, 
What questioun it scholde be 
For which he schal in that degree 70 

Stonde of his lif in jeupartie. 
With that sche feigneth compaignie,^^ 
And seith: ' Florent, on love it hongeth 
Al that to myn axinge longeth: 
What alle wommen most desire 
This wole I axe, and in thempire 
Wher as thou hast most knowlechinge 
Tak conseil upon this axinge.' 

Florent this thing hath undertake, 
The day was set, the time take, 80 

Under his seal he wrot his oth. 
In such a wise and forth he goth 

8 So old that she was grandam to persona already 
dead. 

9 alleged. 10 punish. n friendliness. 



8o 



JOHN GOWER 



90 



Home to his eiiies^ court ayein; 

To whom his aventure pleiii 

He tolde, of that him is befalle. 

And upon that thei weren alle 

The wiseste of the loud aseut,^ 

Bot natheles of on assent 

Thei myhte noght acorde plat, 

On seide this, an othre that. 

After the disposicioun 

Of natiirel complexioun ^ 

To som womman it is plesance, 

That to an other is grevance; 

Bot such a thing in special, 

Which to hem alle in general 

Is most plesaut, and most desired 

Above alle othre and most conspired, 

Such o thing conne thei noght finde 

Be constellacion ne kinde: 100 

And thus Florent withoute cure 

Mot stonde upon his aventure, 

And is al schape unto the lere,^ 

As in defalte of his ansvvere. 

This knyht hath levere forto dye 

Than breke his trowthe and forto lye 

In place ther as he was swore, 

And schapth him gon ayein therfore. 

Whan time cam he tok his leve. 

That lengere wolde he noght beleve, no 

And preith his em he be noght wroth, 

For that is a point of his oth, 

He seith, that noman schal him wreke, 

Thogh afterward men hiere speke 

That he par aventure deie. 

And thus he wente forth his weie 

Alone as knyht aventurous. 

And in his thoght was curious 

To wite what was best to do: 

And as he rod al one so, 120 

And cam nyh ther he wolde be, 

In a forest under a tre 

He syh wher sat a creature, 

A lothly wommannysch figure, 

That forto speke of fleisch and bon 

So foul yit syh he nevere non. 

This knyht behield hir redely. 

And as he wolde have passed by, 

Sche cleped him and bad abide; 

And he his horse heved aside, 130 

Tho torneth, and to hire he rod. 

And there he hoveth ° and abod, 

To wite what sche wolde mene. 

And sche began him to bemene, 



1 uncle's. Ger. Oheim. 
8 disposition. 
6 delays. 



2 sent for. 

i prepared for the loss. 



And seide: 'Florent be thi name, 

Thou hast on honde such a game, 

That bot thou be the betre avised, 

Thi deth is schapeu and devised, 

That al the world ne mai the save, 

Bot if that thou my conseil have.' 140 

Florent, whan he this tale herde. 
Unto this olde wyht ansvverde 
And of hir conseil he hir preide. 
And sche ayein to him thus seide: 
' Florent, if I for the so schape. 
That thou thurgh me thi deth ascape 
And take worschipe of thi dede. 
What schal I have to my mede ? ' 

* What thing,' quod he, ' that thou wolt axe.* 
*I bidde nevere a betre taxe,'^ 150 
Quod sche; ' bot ferst, er thou be sped, 
Thou schalt me leve such a wedd, "^ 

That I wol have thi trowthe in honde 
That thou schalt be myn housebonde.' 
' Nay,' seith Florent, * that may noght be.' 
' Byd thanne forth thi wey,' quod sche, 

* And if thou go withoute red. 
Thou schalt be sekerliche ded.' 
Florent behihte hire good ynowh 

Of lond, of rente, of park, of plowb, 160 

Bot al that compteth sche at noght. 

Tho fell this knyht in mochel thoght; 

Now goth he forth, now comth ayein. 

He wot noght what is best to sein. 

And thoghte, as he rode to and fro. 

That chese he mot on of the tuo — 

Or forto take hire to his wif 

Or elles forto lese his lif. 

And thanne he caste his avantage. 

That sche was of so gret an age, 170 

That sche mai live bot a while. 

And thoghte put hire in an ile, 

Wher that noman hire scholde knowe. 

Til sche with deth were overthrowe. 

And thus this yonge lusti knyht 

Unto this olde lothly wiht 

Tho seide: ' If that non other chance 

Mai make my deliverance, 

Bot only thilke same speche 179 

Which, as thou seist, thou schalt me teche. 

Have hier myn hond, I schal thee wedde.' 

And thus his trowthe he leith to wedde. 

With that sche f rounceth ^ up the browe : 

* This covenant I wol allowe,' 
Sche seith : ' if eny other thing 
Bot that thou hast of my techyng 

6 I ask no better engagement. 

7 pledge. Cf. wedlock, i.e. pledged state. 

8 wrinkles. 



THE TALE OF FLORENT 



8i 



190 



Fro deth thi body mai respite, 

I woU thee of thi trowthe acquite, 

And elles be non other weie. 

Now herkiie me what I schal seie. 

Whau thou art come into the place, 

Wher now thei maken gret mauace 

And upon thi comynge abyde, 

Thei wole anon the same tide 

Oppose 1 thee of thin answere. 

I wot thou wolt nothing forbere 

Of that thou wenest be thi beste, 

And if thou mybt so finde reste, 

Wei is, for thanne is ther nomore. 

And elles this schal be my lore, 200 

That thou schalt seie, upon this molde 

That alle wommen lie vest wolde 

Be soverein of mannes love: 

For what womman is so above, 

Sche hath, as who seith, al hire wille; 

And elles may sche noght f ulfiUe 

What thing hir were lievest have. 

With this answere thou schalt save 

Thiself, and other wise noght. 

And whan thou hast thin ende wroght, 210 

Come hier ayein, thou schalt me finde. 

And let uotliing out of thi minde.' 

He goth him forth with lievy chiere, 
As he that not in what manere 
He mai this worldes joie atteigne: 
For if he d'eie, he hath a peine. 
And if he live, he mot him binde 
To such on which of alle kinde 
Of wommen is thunsemlieste: 
Thus wot he noght what is the beste: 220 
Bot be him lief or be him loth, 
Unto the castell forth he goth 
His fidl answere for to yive. 
Or forto deie or forto live. 
Forth with his conseil cam the lord, 
The thinges stodeu of record, 
He sende up for the lady sone. 
And forth sche cam, that olde mone.'^ 
In presence of the remenant 
The strengthe of al the covenant 230 

Tho was reherced openly. 
And to Florent sche bad forthi 
That he schal tellen his avis. 
As he that woot what is the pris. 
Florent seith al that evere he couthe, 
Bot such word cam ther non to mowthe. 
That he for yif te or for beheste 
Mihte eny wise his deth areste. 
And thus he tarieth longe and late. 
Til that this lady bad algate ^ 240 

' 1 Interrogate. * creature. 3 in any case. 



That he schal for the dom final 

Yive his answere in special 

Of that sche hadde him ferst opposed: 

And thanne he hath trewly supposed 

That he him may of nothing yelpe,* 

Bot if so be tho wordes helpe 

AVhiche as the womman hath him tawht; 

Wherof he hath an hope cawht 

That he schal ben excused so, 

And tolde out plein his wille tho. 250 

And whan that this matrone herde 

The manere how this knyht ansuerde, 

Sche seide: 'Ha treson, wo thee be. 

That hast thus told the privite 

Which alle wommen most desire ! 

I wolde that thou were afire.' 

Bot natheles in such a plit 

Florent of his answere is quit. 

And tho began his sorwe newe, 

For he mot gon, or ben untrewe, 260 

To hire which his trowthe hadde. 

Bot he, which alle schame dradde, 

Goth forth in stede of his penance, 

And takth the fortune of his chance, 

As he that was with trowthe affaited.^ 

This olde wyht him hath awaited 
In place wher as he hire lefte: 
Florent his wofull heved ^ uplefte 
And syh this vecke " wher sche sat, 
Which was the lothlieste what ^ 270 

That evere man caste on his yhe: 
Hire nase bass,^ hire browes hyhe, 
Hire yhen smale and depe set, 
Hire chekes ben with teres wet. 
And rivelen 1° as an emty skyu 
Hangende donn unto the chin; 
Hire lippes schrunken ben for age, 
Ther was no grace m the visage, 
Hir front was nargh,ii hir lockes hore, 
Sche loketh forth as doth a More,^^ 280 
Hire necke is schort, hir schuldres courbe,^^ 
That myhte a mannes lust destourbe, 
Hire body gret and nothing smal. 
And schortly to descrive hire al, 
Sche hath no lith ^^ withoute a lak; 
Bot lich unto the wollesak 
Sche proferth hire unto this knyht, 
And bad him, as he hath behyht. 
So as sche hath ben his warant. 
That he hire holde covenant, 290 

And be the bridel sche him seseth. 
Bot Godd wot how that sche him pleseth 



* boast, speak. s prepared. 6 head. 
8 thing. 9 flat. 10 wriixkle. " low. 
13 bowed. 11 limb. 



12 Moor. 



82 



JOHN GOWER 



300 



310 



Of suche wordes as sche spekth: 
Him theukth welnyh his lierte brekth 
For sorwe that he may iioght fle, 
Bot if he wolde untrewe be. 

Loke, how a sek man for his hele 
Takth baklemoiue ^ with canele,^ 
And with the mirre takth the sucre, 
Ryht upon such a maner lucre ^ 
Stant Florent, as in this diete: 
He drinkth the bitre with the swete, 
He medleth sorwe with hkynge, 
And liveth, as who seith,* deyinge; 
His youthe schal be cast aweie 
Upon such on which as the weie ^ 
Is old and lothly overal. 
Bot nede he mot that nede schal: ^ 
He wolde algate his trowthe holde, 
As every knyht therto is holde, 
What happ so evere hiui is befalle: 
Thogh sche be the fouleste of alle, 
Yet to thonour of wommanhiede 
Him thoghte he scholde taken hiede; 
So that for pure gentilesse, 
As he hire conthe best adresce, 
In ragges, as sche was totore,' 
He set hire on his hors tofore 
And forth he takth his weie softe; 
No wonder thogh he siketh ^ ofte. 
Bot as an oule '-^ fleth be nyhte 
Out of alle othre briddes syhte, 
Riht so this knyht on daies brode 
In clos him hield, and schop his rode 
On nyhtes time, til the tyde 
That he cam there he wolde abide; 
And prively withoute noise 
He bringth this fonle grete coise ^'^ 
To his castell in such a wise 
That noman myhte hire schappe avise, 330 
Til sche into the chambre cam: 
Wher he his prive conseil nam 
Of suche men as he most troste, 
And tolde hem that he nedes moste 
This beste wedde to his wif, 
For elles hadde he lost his lif. 

The prive wommen were asent,^i 
That scholden ben of his assent: 
Hire ragges thai anon of drawe, 
And, as it was that time la we, 340 

She hadde bath, sche hadde reste, 
And was arraied to the beste. 
Bot with no craft of combes brode 
Thei myhte hire hore locks schode,^^ 

1 gentian. 2 cinnamon. s compensation. * so 
to speak. 5 road, common way. 6 he must needs 
who needs must. ^ all torn. s sigheth. 9 owl. 
10 monster ? " sent for. 12 part. 1 



320 



And sche ne wolde noght be schore ^^ 

For no conseil, and thei therfore, 

With such atyr as tho was used, 

Ordeinen that it was excused, 

And hid so crafteliche aboute. 

That noman myhte sen hem oute. 350 

Bot when sche was fuUiche arraied 

And hire atyr was al assaied, 

Tho was sche foulere on to se: 

Bot yit it may non other be, 

Thei were wedded in the nyht; 

So wo begon was nevere knyht 

As he was thanne of mariage. 

And sche began to pleie and rage, 

As who seith, I am wel ynowh ; 

Bot he therof nothing ne lowh,i* 360 

For sche tok thanne chiere on honde 

And clepeth him hire housebonde, 

And seith, ' My lord, go we to bedde, 

For I to that entente wedde. 

That thou schalt be my worldes blisse:* 

And profreth him with that to kisse. 

As sche a Insti lady were. 

His body myhte wel be there, 

Bot as of thoght and of memoirs 

His herte was in purgatoire. 370 

Bot yit for strengthe of matrimoine 

He myhte make non essoine,^^ 

That he ne mot algates plie ^® 

To gon to bedde of compaignie: 

And whan thei were abed naked, 

Withoute slep he was awaked; 

He torneth on that other side. 

For that he wolde hise yhen hyde 

Fro lokynge on that foule wyht. 

The chambre was al full of lyht, 380 

The courtins were of cendal i" thinne ; 

This newe bryd which lay withinne, 

Thogh it be noght with his acord, 

In armes sche beclipte hire lord. 

And preide, as he was torned fro, 

He wolde him torne ayeinward tho; 

'For now,' sche seith, * we ben both on.' 

And he lay still as eny ston, 

Bot evere in on 1^ sche spak and preide, 

And bad him thenke on that he seide, 390 

Whan that he tok hire be the bond. 

He herde and understod the bond. 
How he was set to his penance, 
And as it were a man in trance 
He torneth him al sodeinly. 
And syh a lady lay him by 
Of eyhtetiene wynter age, 



13 shorn. 1* laughed. 
" silk. 18 continuously. 



15 excuse. is submit. 



TALE OF ALBINUS AND ROSEMUND 



83 



Which was the faireste of visage 
That eve re in al this world he syh : 
And as he wolde have take hire nyh, 400 
Sche put hire hand and be his leve, 
Besoghte him that he wolde leve, 
I And seith that for to wynne or less 
j He mot on of tuo thinges chese, 
j Wher 1 he wol have hire such on nyht, 

Or elles upon daies lyht, 
j For he schal noght have bothe tuo. 

And he began to sorwe tho, 
I In many a wise and caste his thoght, 

Bot for al that yit cowthe he noght 410 

Devise himself which was the beste. 

And sche, that wolde his hertes reste, 

Preith that he sholde chese algate, 

Til ate laste longe and late 

He seide: 'O ye, my lyves hele, 

Sey what you list in my querele, 

I not what ansuere I shal yive: 

Bot evere whil that I may live, 

I wol that ye be my maistresse, 

For I can noght miselve gesse 420 

Which is the beste unto my chois. 

Thus grante I yow myn hole vols, 

Ches for ous bothen, I you preie; 

And what as evere that ye seie, 

Riht as ye wole so wol I.' 

* Mi lord,' sche seide, * grant merci, 
For of this word that ye now sein, 
That ye have mad me soverein. 
Mi destine is overpassed, 
That never hierafter scbal be lassed ^ 430 
Mi beaute, which that I now have, 
Til I be take into my grave; 
Bot nyht and day as I am now 
1 schal alwey be such to yow. 
The kinges dowhter of Cizile ^ 
I am, and fell bot siththe ^ awhile, 
As I was with my fader late, 
That my stepmoder for an hate. 
Which toward me sche hath begonne, 
Forschop ° me, til I hadde wonne 4|o 

The love and sovereinete 
Of what knyht that in his degre 
AUe othre passeth of good name: 
And, as men sein, ye ben the same, 
The dede proeveth it is so; 
Thus am I yours evermo.' 
Tho was plesance and joye ynowh, 
Echon with other pleide and lowh; 
Thei live longe and wel thei ferde, 
And clerkes that his chance herde 450 



1 whether. 
B transformed. 



2 lessened. 



Sicily. 



* since. 



Thei writen it in evidence. 
To teche how that obedience 
Mai wel fortune a man to love 
And sette him in his lust above. 
As it befell unto this knyht. 



TALE OF ALBINUS AND 
ROSEMUND 6 

{Confessio Amantis, bk. i, 1, 2459) 

Of hem that we Lombars "^ now calle 
Albinus was the ferste of alle 
Which bar corone of Lombardie, 
And was of gret chivalerie 
In werre ayein diverse kingeS. 
So fell amonges othre thinges. 
That he that time a werre hadde 
With Gurmond, which the Geptes ladde, 
And was a myhti kyng also: 
Bot natheles it fell him so, 10 

Albinus slowh him in the feld, 
Ther halp him nowtber swerd ne scheld, 
That he ne smot his bed of thanne, 
Wherof he tok awey the panne,^ 
Of which he seide he wolde make 
A cnppe for Gurmoundes sake. 
To kepe and drawe into me moire 
Of his bataille the victoire. 
And thus whan he the feld hath wonne, 
The lond anon was overronne 20 

And sesed in his oghne bond, 
Wher he Gurmondes dowhter fond, 
Which Maide Rosemounde hihte, 
And was in every manues sihte 
A fair, a freissb, a lusti on. 
His herte fell to hire anon. 
And such a love on hire he caste, 
That he hire weddeth ate laste; 
And after that long time in reste 
With hire he diielte, and to the beste 30 
Thei love ech other wonder wel. 
Bot sche which kepth the blinde whel, 
Venus, whan thei be most above, 
In al the hoteste of here love, 
Hire whiel sche torneth, and thei felle 
In the manere as I schal telle. 

This king, which stod in al his welthe 
Of pes, of worschipe and of helthe, 
And f elte him on no side grieved. 
As he that hath his world achieved, 40 

6 Gower has much enlarged upon his probable source, 
the twelfth century Pantheon of Godfrey of Viterbo. 

7 Lombards. « skull. 



84 



JOHN GOWER 



Tho thoghte he wolde a feste make; 

And that was for his wyves sake, 

That sche the lordes ate feste, 

That were obeissant to his heste, 

Mai kuowe: and so forth therupon 

He let ordeine, and sende anon 

Be lettres and be messagiers, 

And warnede alle hise otticiers 

That every thing be wel arraied: 

The grete stiedes were assaied 50 

For joustinge and for torneinent, 

And many a perled garnement 

Embroudred was ayeiu the dai. 

The lordes in here beste arrai 

Be comen ate time set; 

On jousteth wel, an other bet,^ 

And otherwhile thei torneie, 

And thus thei casten care aweie 

And token lustes upon lionde. 

And after, thou schalt understonde, 60 

To mete into the kinges halle 

Thei come, as thei be bedeu alle: 

And whan thei were set and served, 

Thanne after, as it was deserved. 

To hem that worthi knyhtes were, 

So as thei seten hiere and there. 

The pris was yove ^ and spoken oute 

Among the heraldz al aboute. 

And thus benethe and ek above 

Al was of amies and of love, 70 

Wherof abouten ate hordes 

Men hadde manye sondri wordes, 

That of the merthe which thei made 

The king himself began to glade 

Withinne his herte and tok a pride. 

And sih ^ the cuppe stonde aside, 

Which mad was of Gurmoundes bed, 

As ye have herd, whan he was ded. 

And was with gold and riche stones 

Beset and bounde for the nones, 2° 

And stod upon a fot on heihte 

Of burned gold, and with gret sleihte 

Of werkmanschipe it was begrave 

Of such werk as it scholde have, 

And was policed ^ ek so clene 

That no signe of the skuUe is sene, 

Bot as it were a gripes ey.^ 

The king bad here his cuppe awey, 

Which stod tofore him on the bord, 

And fette thilke.^ Upon his word 90 

This skull e is fet and wyn therimie, 

W^herof he bad his wif beginne: 

' Drink with thi fader. Dame,' he seide. 



1 better. 2 given. 

B griffin's or vulture's egg. 



3 saw. * polished. 

6 fetch that other. 



And sche to his biddinge obeide, 

And tok the skuUe, and what hire liste 

Sche drank, as sche which nothing wiste 

What cuppe it was: and thanne al oute 

The kyng in audience aboute 

Hath told it was hire fader " skulle, 

So that the lordes knowe schuUe 100 

Of his bataille a soth witnesse. 

And made avant thurgh what prouesse 

He hath his wyves love wonne, 

Which of the skullo hath so begoune. 

Tho was ther mochel pride alofte, 

Thei speken alle ; and sche was softe, 

Thenkende on thilke unkynde ^ pride, 

Of that hire lord so nyh hire side 

Avanteth him that he hath slain 

And piked out hire fader brain, no 

And of the skulle had mad a cuppe. 

Sche soffreth al til thei were uppe, 

And tho sche hath seknesse feigned. 

And goth to chambre and hath compleigned 

Unto a maide which sche triste,^ 

So that non other wyht it wiste. 

This mayde Glodeside is hote,!*^ 

To whom this lady hath behote^^ 

Of ladischipe al that sche can. 

To vengen hire upon this man, 120 

Which dede hire drinke in such a plit ^ 

Among hem alle for despit 

Of hire and of hire fader bothe; 

Wherof hire thoghtes ben so wrothe, 

Sche seith, that sche schal noght be glad, 

Til that sche se him so bestad 

That he nomore make avant. 

And thus thei f elle in covenant, 

That thei acorden ate laste. 

With suche wiles as thei caste 

That thei wol gete of here acord 

Sora orped^^ knyht to sle this lord: 

And with this sleihte thei beginne, 

How thei Helmege myhten winne. 

Which was the kinges boteler,^* 

A proud, a lusti bacheler. 

And Glodeside he loveth bote. 

And sche, to make him more assote,^^ 

Hire love granteth, and be nyhte 

Thei schape how thei togedre myhte 140 

Abedde meete : and don it was 

This same nyht; and in this cas 

The qwene hirself the nyht secounde 

Wente in hire stede, and there hath founde 

A chambre derk withoute liht, 

7 The old possessive form. 8 unnatural. » trusted. 
" " 11 promised. 12 manner. ^ valiant. 
" doting. 



130 



10 called, 
" butler. 



THE TALE OF CONSTANTINE AND SILVESTER 



85 



150 



And goth to bedde to this knyht. 

And he, to kepe his observance, 

To love doth his obeissance, 

And weneth it be Glodeside; 

And sche thanne after lay aside, 

And axeth him what he hath do, 

And who sche was sche tolde him tho. 

And seide: 'Helmege, I am thi qwene 

Now schal thi love wel be sene 

Of that thou hast thi wille wroght: 

Or it schal sore ben aboght, 

Or thou schalt worche as I thee seie. 

And if thou wolt be such a weie 

Do my plesance and holde it stille, 

For evere I schal ben at thi wille, 160 

Bothe I and al myn heritage.' 

Anon the wylde loves rage. 

In which noman him can governe, 

Hath mad him that he can noght weme,^ 

Bot fell al hoi to hire assent: 

And thus the whiel is al miswent, 

The which fortune hath upon honde; 

For how that evere it after stonde, 

Thei schope among hem such a wyle. 

The king was ded withinne a whyle. 170 

So slihly cam it noght aboute 

That thei ne ben discoevered oute. 

So that it thoghte hem for the beste 

To fle, for there was no reste: 

And thus the tresor of the king 

Thei trusse ^ and mochel other thing, 

And with a certein felaschipe 

Thei fledde and wente awey be schipe, 

And hielde here rihte cours fro thenne, 

Til that thei come to Ravenne, 180 

Wher thei the Dnkes helpe soghte. 

And he, so as thei him besoghte, 

A place granteth f orto duelle ; 

Bot after, whan he herde telle 

Of the manere how thei have do, 

This Diik let schape for hem so, 

That of a puison which thei drunke 

Thei hadden that thei have beswunke.^ 

And al this made avant^of Pride: 
Good is therfore a man to hide 
His oghne pris, for if he speke. 
He mai lilitliche his thonk tobreke.* 
In amies lith non avantance 
To him which thenkth his name avance 
And be renomed of his dede: 
And also who that thenkth to spede 
Of love, he mai him noght avaunte; 
For what man thilke vice haunte, 

1 refuse. 2 pack up. ' labored for, earned. 

* boast. B lose his reward. 



190 



His pourpos schal f ulofte faile. 
In armes he that wol travaile 
Or elles loves grace atteigne. 
His lose ® tunge he mot restreigne. 
Which berth of his honour the keie."^ 



THE TALE OF CONSTANTINE 
AND SILVESTER 

(Confessio Amantis, bk. 11, 1. 3187) 

Among the bokes of Latin^ 
I finde write of Constantin 
The worthi Emperour of Rome, 
Suche infortunes to him come. 
Whan he was in his lusti age. 
The lepre ^ cawhte in his visage 
And so forth overal aboute, 
That he ne mihte ryden oute: 
So lefte he bothe schield and spere, 
As he that mihte him noght bestere, 10 

And hield him in his chambre clos. 
Thurgh al the world the fame aros, 
The grete clerkes ben asent 
And come at his comandement 
To trete upon this lordes hele.^'^ 
So longe thei togedre dele. 
That thei upon this medicine 
Apointen hem, and determine 
That in the maner as it stod 
Thei wolde him bathe in childes blod 20 
Withinne sevene wynter age: 
For, as thei sein, that scholde assuage 
The lepre and al the violence, 
Which that thei knewe of accidence 
And noght be weie of kinde^^ is falle. 
And therto thei acorden alle 
As for final conclusioun. 
And tolden here opinioun 
To themperour: and he anon 
His conseil tok, and therupon 30 

With lettres and with scales oute 
Thei sende in every lond aboute 
The yonge children forto seche, 
Whos blod, thei seiden, schal be leche 
For themperoures maladie. 
Ther was ynowh to wepe and crie 
Among the modres, whan thei herde 
Hou wofuUy this cause ferde, 
Bot natheles thei moten bo we; 
And thus wommen ther come ynowhe 40 
6 loose. 7 key. s These could be lives of Saint 
Silvester. See Macaulay's note. » leprosy, i" health, 
n by mere chance, and not in the reasonable course of 
nature. 



86 



JOHN GOWER 



With children soukencle on the tete. 

Tho was tlier nianye teres lete; 

Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe, 

The wommen and the children bothe 

Into the paleis forth he broght 

With many a sory hertes tlioght 

Of hem whiche of here bodi bore 

The children hadde, and so forlore 

Withinne a while scholden se. 

The modres wepe in here degre, 50 

And manye of hem aswoune falle, 

The yonge babes criden alle: 

This noyse aros, the lord it herde, 

And loked out, and how it ferde 

He sih, and as who seith 1 abreide^ 

Out of his slep, and thus he seide: 

'O tliou divine pourveance, 
Which every man in the balance 
Of kinde hast formed to be liche, 
The povere is bore as is the riche 60 

And deieth in the same wise; 
Upon the fol, upon the wise 
Siknesse and hele entrecomune;^ 
Mai non eschuie that fortune 
Which kinde hath in hire la we set; 
Hire strengthe and beaute ben beset 
To every man aliche fre, 
That sche preferreth no degre 
As in the disposicioun 

Of bodili complexioun: 70 

And ek of soule resonable 
The povere child is bore als able 
To vertu as the kinges sone; 
For every man his oghne wone* 
After the lust of his assay 
The vice or vertu chese may. 
Thus stonden alle men franchised, 
Bot in astat thei ben divised; 
To some worschipe and richesse, 
To some poverte and distresse, 80 

On lordeth and an other serveth; 
Bot yit as every man deserveth 
The world yifth noght his yiftes hiere. 
Bot certes he hath gret matiere 
To ben of good condicioun, 
Which hath in his sabjeccioun 
The men that ben of his semblance.' 
And ek he tok a remembrance 
Howe he that made lawe of kinde 
Wolde every man to lawe binde, 90 

And bad a man, such as he wolde 
Toward himself, riht such he scholde 
Toward an other don also. 
And thus this worthi lord as tho 

1 as it were. 2 started. 3 intermix. 4 custom. 



Sette in balance his oghne astat 

And with himself stod in debat, 

And thoghte hou that it was noght good 

To se so mochel mannes blod 

Be spilt for cause of him alone. 

He sih also the grete mone, 100 

Of that tlie modres were unglade, 

And of the wo the children made, 

Wherof that al his herte tendreth, 

And such pite withinne engendreth, 

That him was levere forto chese 

His oghne bodi forto lese, 

Tl)an se so gret a moerdre wroght 

Upon the blod which gulteth noght.^ 

Thus for the pite which he tok 

Alle othre leches he forsok, no 

And put him out of aventure 

Al only into Goddes cure; 

And seith, 'Who that woll maister be, 

He mot be servant to pite.' 

So ferforth he was overcome 

With charite, that he hath nome ^ 

His conseil and hise officers. 

And bad unto hise tresorers 

That thei his tresour al aboute 

Departe among that povere route 120 

Of wommen and of children bothe, 

Wherof thei mihte hem fede and clothe 

And saufli tornen horn ayein 

Withoute lost of eny grein. 

Thurgh charite thus he despendeth 

His good, wherof that he amendeth 

The povere poeple, and contrevaileth 

The harm, that he hem so travaileth; 

And thus the woful nyhtes sorwe 

To joie is torned on the morwe; 130 

Al was thonkinge, al was blessinge, 

Which erst was wepinge and cursinge; 

Thes wommen gon hom glade ynowh, 

Echon for joie on other lowh,'^ 

And preiden for this lordes hele. 

Which hath relessed the querele, 

And hath his oghne will forsake 

In charite for Goddes sake. 

Bot now hierafter thou schalt hiere 
What God hath wroght in this matiere, 140 
As he which doth al equite. 
To him that wroghte charite 
He was ayeinward ^ charitous, 
And to pite he was pitous: 
For it was nevere knowe yit 
That charite goth unaquit. 
The nyht, whan he was leid to slepe. 
The hihe God, which wolde him kepe, 

5 is not guilty, 6 taken. ^ laughed, » in return. 



THE TALE OF CONSTANTINE AND SILVESTER 



87 



Seiut Peter and seint Poul him sende, 
Be whom he wolde his lepre amende. 150 
Thei tuo to him slepende appiere 
Fro God, and seide in this manere: 

* O Constantin, for thou hast served 
Pite, thou hast pite deserved: 
Forthi thou schalt such pite have 
That God thurgh pite woll thee save. 
So schalt thou double hele fiude, 
Ferst for thi bodiliche kiude, 

I And for thi wofull soule also, 

I Thou schalt ben hoi of bothe tuo. 160 

And for thou schalt thee noght despeire, 
Thi lepre schal nomore empeire ^ 
Til thou wolt sende therupon 
Unto the Mont of Celion, 
Wher that Silvestre and his clergie 
Togedre duelle in compaignie 
For drede of thee, which many day 
Hast ben a fo to Cristes lay,^ 
And hast destruid to mochel schame 
The prechours of his holy name. 170 

Bot now thou hast somdiel appesed 
Thi God, and with good dede plesed, 
That thou thi pite hast bewared ^ 
Upon the bjod which thou hast spared. 
Forthi to thi salvacion 
Thou schalt have enformaeioun. 
Such as Silvestre schal the teche: 
The nedeth of non other leche.' 

This Eniperour, which al this herde, 

* Grant merci, lordes,' he ansuerde, 180 

* I wol do so as ye me seie. 
Bot of o thing I wolde preie: 
What schal 1 telle unto Silvestre 

Or of youre name or of youre estre ? ' * 

And thei him tolden what thei hihte, 

And forth withal out of his sihte 

Thei passen up into the hevene. 

And he awok out of his swevene,^ 

And clepeth, and men come anon: 

He tolde his drem, and therupon 190 

In such a wise as he hem telleth 

The mont wher that Silvestre duelleth 

Thei have in alle haste soght. 

And founde he was and with hem broght 

To themperour, which to him tolde 

His swevene and elles that he wolde. 

And whan Silvestre hath herd the king, 

He was riht joiful of this thing, 

And him began with al his wit 

To techen upon holi writ 200 

Ferst how mankinde was forlore. 



1 grow worse. 
* abode. 



2 faith. 



3 showed, 
dream. 



And how the hihe God therfore 

His Sone sende from above. 

Which bore was for mannes love. 

And after of his oghne chois 

He tok his deth upon the crois; 

And how in grave he was beloke,^ 

And how that he hath helle broke. 

And tok hem out that were him lieve;"^ 

And forto make ous full believe 210 

That he was verrai Goddes Sone, 

Ayein the kinde of mannes wone ^ 

Fro dethe he ros the thridde day. 

And vvhanne he wolde, as he wel may. 

He styh ^ up to his fader evene 

With fleissh and blod into the hevene; 

And riht so in the same forme 

In fleissh and blod he schal reforme. 

Whan time comth, the qwike and dede 

At thilke wof ul dai of drede, 220 

Where every man schal take his dom, 

Als wel the maister as the grom. 

The militi kinges retenue 

That dai may stonde of no value 

With worldes strengthe to defende; 

For every man mot thanne entende 

To stonde upon his oghne dedes 

And leve all othre mennes nedes. 

That dai mai no consail availe, 

The pledour and the plee schal faile, 230 

The sentence of that ilke day 

Mai non api>ell sette in delay; 

Ther mai no gold the jugge plie,^*^ 

That he ne schal the sothe trie 

And setten every man upriht, 

Als wel the plowman as the kniht: 

The lewed man, the grete clerk 

Schal stonde upon his oghne werk, 

And such as he is founde tho, 

Such schal he be for evermo. 240 

Ther mai no peine be relessed, 

Ther mai no joie ben encressed, 

Bot endeles, as thei have do. 

He schal receive on of the tuo. 

And thus Silvestre with his sawe 

The ground of al the newe la we 

With gret devoeion he precheth, 

Fro point to point and pleinly techeth 

Unto this hethen Emperour; 

And seith, the hihe creatour 250 

Hath underfonge ^^ his charite, 

Of that he wroghte such pite, 

Whan he the children hadde on honde. 

Thus whan this lord hath understonde 



8 shut up. 
» ascended. 



7 dear to him. 
10 bend, move. 



8 custom. 
" received. 



88 



JOHN GOWER 



Of al this thing how that it ferde, 

Unto Silvestre he thanne ansuerde, 

With al his hole herte and seith 

That he is redi to the feith. 

And so the vessel which for blod 

Was mad, Silvestre, ther it stod, 260 

With clene water of the welle 

In alle haste he let do felle, 

And sette Constantin therinne 

Al naked up unto the ehinne. 

And in the while it was begun ne, 

A liht, as thogh it were a snnne, 

Fro hevene into the place com 

Wher that he tok his Christendom;^ 

And evere among the holi tales 

Lich as thei weren fisshes skales 270 

Ther fellen from him now and eft, ^ 

Til that ther was notliing beleft 

Of al his grete maladie. 

For he that wolde him purefie, 

The hi he God hath mad him clene, 

So that ther lefte notliing sene; 

He hath him clensed bothe tuo, 

The bodi and the soule also. 

Tho knew this Emperour in dede 
That Cristes feith was f orto drede, 280 

And sende anon hise lettres oute 
And let do crien al aboute, 
Up peine of deth that noman weyve ^ 
That he baptesme ne receive: 
After his moder qweene Heleine 
He sende, and so bet wen hem tweine 
Thei treten, that the cite all 
Was cristned, and sche forth withall. 
This Emperour, which hele hath fouude, 
Withinne Rome anon let founde 290 

Tuo cherches, whiche he dede make 
For Peter and for Poules sake, 
Of whom he hadde avisioun; 
And yaf therto possessioun 
Of lordschipe and of worldes good. 
Bot how so that his will was good 
Toward the Pope and his franchise, 
Yit hath it proved other wise. 
To se the worchinge of the dede: 
For in cronique this I rede; 300 

Anon as he hath mad the yifte, 
A vois was herd on hih the lifte,^ 
Of which al Rome was adrad, 
And seith : ' To day is venym schad 
In holi cherche of temporal, 
Which medleth with the spirital.' 
And hou it stant of that degree 

1 Christian baptism. 2 again. 

8 hesitate. * sky. 



Yit mai a man the sothe se: 

God mai amende it, whan he wile, 

I can ther to non other skile.^ 



310 



THE TALE OF ROSIFHELEE^ 

(Con/essio Amantis, bk. iv, 1. 1245) 

Of Armenye, I rede thus, 
Ther was a king, which Herupus 
Was bote,' and he a lusti maide 
To dowhter hadde, and as man saide 
Hire name was Rosiphelee; 
Which tho was of gret renomee, 
For sche was bothe wys and fair 
And scholde ben hire fader hair.^ 
Bot sche hadde o defalte of slowthe 
Towardes love, and that was rowthe;^ 10 
For so wel cowde noman seie, 
Which mihte sette hire in the weie 
Of loves occupacioun 
Thurgh non ymaginacion; 
That scole wolde sche noght knowe. 
And thus sche was on of the slowe 

As of such hertes besinesse, 

Til whanne Venus the goddesse. 

Which loves court hath forto reule, 

Hath broght hire into betre reule, 20 

Forth with Cupide and with his miht: 

For thei merveille how such a wiht, 

Which tho was in hir lusti age, 

Desireth nother mariage 

Ne yit the love of paramours, 

Which evere hath be the comun cours 

Amonges hem that lusti were. 

So was it sche wed after there: 

For he that hihe hertes loweth 

With fyri dartes whiche he throweth, 30 

Cupide, which of love is godd. 

In chastisinge hath mad a rodd 

To dryve awei hir wantounesse; ^^ 

So that withinne a while, I gesse, 

Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,^^ 

That al hire mod was overtorned, 

Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere: 

For thus it fell, as thou schalt hiere. 

Whan come was the monthe of Maii, 

Sche wolde walke upon a dai, 40 

And that was er the sonne ariste;^^ 

Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste, 

6 reason. 

6 For other versions of this widespread story, see 
Romania,, Jan., 1900, an article on the "Purgatory of 
Cruel Beauties," by W. A. Neilson. 

^ called. s father's lieir. » a pity. 

10 insubordination. " stumbled. 12 sun's rising. 



THE TALE OF ROSIPHELEE 



89 



And forth sche wente prively 

Unto the park was faste by, 

Al softe walkende on the gras, 

Til sche cam ther the launde was, 

Thurgh which ther ran a gret rivere. 

It thoghte 1 hir fair, and seide, ' Here 

I wole abide under the schawe ': ^ 

And bad hire wornmen to withdraws, 50 

And ther sche stod al one stille, 

To thenke what was in hir wille. 

Sche sih the swote floures springe, 

Sche herde glade foules singe, 

Sche sih the bestes in her kinde, 

The buck, the do, the hert, the hinde, 

The madle^ go with the femele; 

And so began ther a querele 

Betwen love and hir oghne herte, 

Fro which sche couthe noght asterte. 60 

And as sche caste hire yhe aboute, 

Sche syh clad in o suite a route 

Of ladis, wher thei comen ryde 

Along under the wodes syde: 

On faire amblende hors thei sete, 

That were al whyte, fatte and grete, 

And everichvn thei ride on side.* 

The sadles were of such a pride. 

With perle and gold so wel begon,^ 

So riche syh sche nevere non ; 70 

In kertles and in copes ^ riche 

Thei weren clothed, alle liche, 

Departed evene of whyt and blew; 

With alle lustes that sche knew 

Thei were enbrouded overal. 

Here bodies weren long and smal, 

The beaute faye '^ upon here face 

Non erthly thing it may desface; 

Corones on here hed thei beere. 

As ech of hem a qweene weere, 80 

That al the gold of Cresus halle 

The leste coronel of alle 

Ne mihte have boght after the worth: 

Thus come thei ridende forth. 

The kinges dowhter, which this syh, 
For pure abaissht ^ drowh hire adryh ^ 
And hield hire clos under the bowh, 
And let hem passen stille ynowh; 
For as hire thoghte in hire avis, 
To hem that were of such a pris 90 

Sche was noght worthi axen there 
Fro when they come or what thei were: 
Bot levere than this worldes good 
Sche wolde have wist hou that it stod, 

1 seemed. 2 leafy shade, s male. * side-saddle, 
probably. b decorated. « mantles. "> fairy. Many 
BtSS. read /aire. 8 for verydifladence. » aside. 



And putte hire hed alitel oute ; 

And as sche lokede hire aboute, 

Sche syh comende under the linde ^^ 

A womman up an hors behinde. 

The hors on which sche rod was blak, 

Al lene and galled on the back, 100 

And haltede, as he were encluyed,ii 

Whereof the womman was annuied; ^^ 

Thus was the hors in sori plit, 

Bot for al that a sterre whit 

Amiddes in the front he hadde. 

Hir sadel ek was wonder badde, 

In which the wof uU womman sat, 

And natheles ther was with that 

A riche bridel for the nones 

Of gold and preciouse stones. no 

Hire cote was somdiel totore; ^^ 

Aboute hir middel twenty score 

Of horse haltres and wel mo 

Ther hyngen ate time tho. 

Thus whan sche cam the ladi nyh, 
Than tok sche betre hiede and syh 
This womman fair was of visage, 
Freyssh, lusti, yong and of tendre age; 
And so this ladi, ther sche stod, 
Bethoghte hire wel and understod 120 

That this, which com ridende tho, 
Tidinges couthe telle of tho 
Which as sche sih tofore ryde, 
And putte hir forth and preide abide. 
And seide, ' Ha, suster, let me hiere, 
What ben thei, that now riden hiere. 
And ben so richeliche arraied ? ' 

This womman, which com so esmaied,^* 
Ansuerde with ful softe speche. 
And seith, * Ma dame, I schal you teche. 130 
These ar of tho that whilom were 
Servantz to love, and trowthe beere, 
Ther as thei hadde here herte set. 
Fare wel, for 1 mai noght be let:^^ 
Ma dame, I go in mi servise. 
So moste I haste in alle wise; 
Forth i, ma dame, yif me leve, 
I mai noght longe with you leve.' 

* Ha, goode soster, yit I preie, 
Tell me whi ye ben so beseie ^^ 140 

And with these haltres thus begon.' ^"^ 

' Ma dame, whilom I was on 
That to mi fader hadde a king; 
Bot I was slow, and for no thing 
Me liste noght to love obeie, 
And that I now ful sore abeie.^^ 

10 linden. " had a nail in his foot. 12 distressed. 
13 somewhat torn. 1* dismayed. is delayed. 

'6 arrayed. "furnished. is pay for. 



90 



JOHN GOWER 



For I whilom no love hadde, 

Mill hors is now so fieble and badde, 

And al totoie is niyn arai, 

And every yeer this freisshe Mail 150 

These lusti ladis ryde aboute, 

And I mot nedes suie ^ here route 

In this manere as ye now se, 

And trusse here haltres forth with me, 

And am hot as here horse knave. 

Non other office I ne have, 

Hem thenkth I am worthi nomore, 

For I was slow in loves lore, 

Whan I was able forto lere. 

And vvolde noght the tales hiere 160 

Of hem that couthen love teche.' 

' Now tell me thanne, I you beseche, 
Wherof that riche bridel serveth.' 

With that hire chere awei sche swerveth,^ 
And gan to wepe, and thus sche tolde: 
• This bridel, which ye nou beholde 
So riche upon myn horse had, — 
Ma dame, afore, er I was ded, 
Whan I was in mi lusti lif, 
Ther fel into myn herte a strif 170 

Of love, which me overcom. 
So that therafter hiede I nom^ 
And thoghte I wolde love a kniht: 
That laste wel a fourtenyht, 
For it no lengere mihte laste, 
So nyh my lif was ate laste. 
Bot now, alias, to late war 
That I ne hadde him loved ar: ^ 
For deth cam so in haste bime,^ 
Er I therto hadde eny time, 180 

That it ne mihte ben achieved. 
Bot for al that I am relieved, 
Of that mi will was good therto, 
That love soffreth it be so 
That I schal swiche a bridel were. 
Now have ye herd al myn ansuere: 
To Godd, ma dame, I you betake, 
And warneth alle for mi sake, 
Of love that thei ben noght ydel. 
And bidd hem thenke upon mi brydel.' 190 
And with that word al sodieuly 
Sche passeth, as it were a sky,^ 
Al clene out of this ladi sihte: 
And tho for fere hire herte afflihte,^ 
And seide to hirself, ' Helas ! 
I am riht in the same cas. 
Bot if I live after this day, 
I schal amende it, if 1 may.' 
And thus homward this lady wente, 



1 follow. 
* sooner. 



2 turns her face away. 
5 by me. 6 cloud. 



3 took. 

7 was aflaicted. 



And changede al hire ferste entente 
Withinne hire herte, and gan to swere 
That sche none haltres wolde bere. 



THE TALE OF CEYX AND 
ALCEONE8 

{Confessio Amantis, bk. iv, 1. 2917) 

Ml sone, and for thou tellest so, 
A man mai finde of time ago 
Tliat many a swevene ^ hath be certein, 
Al be it so that som men sein 
That swevenes ben of no credence. 
Bot forto schewe in evidence 
That thei fulofte sothe thinges 
Betokene, I thenke in my wrytinges 
To telle a tale therupon. 
Which fell be olde dales gon. 

This finde I write in poesie: 
Ceix the king of Trocinie 
Hadde Alceone to his wif. 
Which as hire oghne hertes lif 
Him loveth; and he hadde also 
A brother, which was cleped tho 
Dedalion, and he per cas 
Fro kinde of man forschape was 
Into a goshauk of likenesse; 
Wherof the king gret hevynesse 
Hath take, and thoghte in his corage 
To gon upon a pelrinage 
Into a strange regiomi, 
Wher he hath his devocioun 
To don his sacrifice and preie. 
If that he mihte in eny weie 
Toward the goddes finde grace 
His brother hele ^"^ to pourchace. 
So that he mihte be reformed 
Of that he hadde be transformed. 
To this pourpos and to this ende 
This king was redy forto wende, 
As he which wolde go be schipe; 
And forto don him f elaschipe 
His wif unto the see him broghte, 
With al hire herte and him besoghte. 
That he the time hire wolde sein. 
Whan that he thoghte come ayein: 
'Withinne,' he seith, 'tuo monthe day.' 
And thus in al the haste he may 
He tok his leve, and forth he seileth 
Wepende, and sche hirself beweileth, 

8 Gower's source is Ovid's Metmnorpho.ies, XI, 266 f. 
Compare Chaucer's version in the Book of the Duchess, 
1. 62 f . 

» dream. 10 health, well-being. 



30 



40 



THE TALE OF CEYX AND ALCEONE 



And tornetb. horn, ther sche cam fro. 

Bot whan the monthes were ago, 

The whiche he sette of his comynge, 

And that sche herde no tvdiuge, 

Ther was no care forto seche : 

Wherof the goddes to beseche 

Tho sche began in many wise, 

And to Juno hire sacrifise 50 

Above alle othre most sche dede, 

And for hir lord sche hath so bede ^ 

To wite and knowe hou that he ferde, 

That Juno the goddesse hire herde 

Anon and upon this matiere 

Sche bad Yris hir messagere 

To Slepes hous that sche schal wende, 

And bidde him that he make an ende 

Be swevene and schewen al the cas 

Unto this ladi, hou it was. 60 

This Yris, fro the hihe stage 
Which undertake hath the message, 
Hire reyny cope ^ dede upon, 
The which was wonderli begon 
With colours of diverse he we, 
An hundred nfo than men it knewe ; 
The hevene lich unto a bowe 
Sche bende, and so she cam doun lows, 
The god of slep wher that sche fond. 
And that was in a strange lond, 70 

Which marcheth ^ upon Chymerie : 
For ther, as seith the poesie, 
The god of slep hath mad his hous, 
Which of entaille "* is merveilous. 
Under an hell ^ ther is a cave, 
Which of the sonne mai noght have, 
So that noman mai knowe ariht 
The point betwen the dai and nyht : 
Ther is no fyr, ther is no sparke, 
Ther is no dore, which mai charke,^ 80 

Wherof an yhe scholde unschette, 
So that inward ther is no lette. 
And forto speke of that withoute, 
Ther stant no gret tree nyh aboute 
Wher on ther myhte crowe or pie 
Alihte, forto clepe or crie : 
Ther is no cok to crowe day, 
Ne beste non which noise ' may 
The hell ; bot al aboute round 
Ther is growende upon the ground 90 

Popi, which berth the sed of slep, 
With othere herbes suche an hep. 
A stille water for the nones 
Rennende upon the smale stones. 
Which hihte of Lethes the rivere, 

* prayed. 2 rainy cloak. ' borders. 

* fashion. s Kentish for hill. 6 creak. ^ disturb. 



Under that hell in such manere 

Ther is, which yifth gret appetit 

To slepe. And thus full of delit 

Slep hath his hous ; and of his couche 

Withinne his chambre if I schal touche, 100 

Of hebenus ^ that slepi tree 

The hordes al aboute be, 

And for he scholde slepe softe, 

Upon a fethrebed alofte 

He lith with many a pilwe of doun : 

The chambre is strowed up and doun 

With swevenes many thousendfold. 

Thus cam Yris into this hold, 

And to the bedd, which is al blak, 

Sche goth, and ther with Slep sche spak, no 

And in the wise as sche was bede 

The message of Juno sche dede. 

Fulofte hir wordes sche reherceth, 

Er sche his slepi eres perceth ; 

With mochel wo bot ate laste 

His slombrende yhen ^ he upcaste 

And seide hir that it schal be do. 

Wherof among a thousend tho, 

Withinne his hous that slepi were. 

In special he ches out there 120 

Thre, whiche scholden do this dede : 

The ferste of hem, so as I rede. 

Was Morpheus, the whos nature 

Is forto take the figure 

Of what persone that him liketh, 

Wherof that he fulofte entriketh^"^ 

The lif ^1 which slepe schal be nyhte ; 

And Ithecus that other hihte. 

Which hath the vois of every soun. 

The chiere and the condicioun 130 

Of every lif, what so it is : 

The thridde suiende ^^ after this 

Is Panthasas, which may transforme 

Of every thing the rihte forme, 

And change it in an other kinde. 

Upon hem thre, so as I finde, 

Of swevenes stant al thapparence, 

Which otherwhile is evidence 

And otherwhile bot a jape.^^ 

Bot natheles it is so schape, 140 

That Morpheus be nyht al one 

Appiereth until Alceone 

In likenesse of hir housbonde 

Al naked ded upon the stronde, 

And hou he dreynte ^^ in special 

These othre tuo it schewen al. 

The tempeste of the blake cloudf , 

The wode ^^ see, the wyndes loude, 

8 ebony. » eyes. 
12 following. 13 trick. 



' deceives. " person. 
1* drowned. is raging. 



92 



JOHN GOWER 



Al this sche mette,i and sih him dyen ; 
Wherof that sche began to crien, 150 

Slepende abedde ther sche lay. 
And with that noise of hire affray 
Hir wommen sterten up aboute, 
Whiclie of here ladi were in doute, 
And axen hire hou that sche ferde ; 
And sche, riht as sche syh and heide, 
Hir swevene hath told hem everydel. 
And thei it halsen^ alle wel 
And sein it is a tokne of goode ; 
Bot til sche wiste hou that it stode, 160 

Sche hath no confort in hire herte 
Upon the morwe, and up sche sterte, 
And to the see, where that sche mette 
The bodi lay, withoute lette 
Sche drowh; and whan that sche cam nyh, 
Stark ded, hfse armes sprad, sche syh 
Hire lord flietende upon the wawe.^ 
Wherof hire wittes ben withdrawe. 
And sche, which tok of deth no kepe, 
Anon forth lepte into the depe, 170 

And wolde have cawht him in hire arm. 

This infortune of double harm 
The goddes fro the hevene above 
Behielde, and for the trowthe of love, 
Which in this worthi ladi stod, 
Thei have upon the salte fiod 
Hire dreinte ^ lord and hire also 
Fro deth to lyve torned so. 
That thei ben schapen into briddes 
Swimmende upon the wawe amiddes. 180 
And whan sche sih hire lord livende 
In liknesse of a bridd swimmende, 
And sche was of the same sort, 
So as sche mihte do desport, 
Upon the joie which sche hadde 
Hire wynges bothe abroad sche spradde, 
And him, so as sche raai suffise, 
Beclipte ^ and keste in such a wise, 
As sche was w^hilom wont to do : 
Hire wynges for hire armes tuo 190 

Sche tok, and for hire lippes softe 
Hire harde bile, and so fulofte 
Sche fondeth ^ in hire briddes forme, 
If that sche mihte hirself conforme 
To do the plesance of a wif. 
As sche dede in that other lif : 
For thogh sche hadde hir pouer lore,"^ 
Hir will stod as it was tofore. 
And serveth him so as sche mai. 
Wherof into this ilke day 200 

Togedre upon the see thei wone,^ 



1 dreamed. 
5 embraced. 



2 interpret. 
6 tries. 



' wave, 
f lost. 



* drowned. 
8 dwell. 



Wher many a dowhter and a sone 
Thei bringen forth of briddes kinde ; 
And for men scholden take in mynde 
This Alceoun the trewe queene, 
Hire briddes yit, as it is scene. 
Of Alceoun ^ the name here. 



THE TALE OF ADRIAN AND 
BARDUSio 

{Confessio Amantis, bk. v, 1. 4937) 

To speke of an unkinde ^^ man, 
I finde hou whilom Adrian, 
Of Rome which a gret lord was, 
Upon a day as he per cas ^^ 
To wode in his huntiuge wente, 
It hapneth at a soudein wente, ^^ 
After his chace as he poursuieth, 
Thurgh happ, the which noman eschuieth. 

He fell unwar into a pet,^^ 

Wher that it mihte noght be let. 10 

The pet was dep and he fell lowe, 

That of his men non myhte knowe 

Wher he becam, for non was nyh. 

Which of his fall the meschief syh. 

And thus al one ther he lay 

Clepende ^^ and criende al the day 

For socour and deliverance. 

Til ayein eve it fell per chance, 

A while er it began to nyhte, 

A povere man, which Bardus hihte, 20 

Cam forth walkende with his asse. 

And hadde gadred him a tasse ^^ 

Of grene stickes and of dreie 

To selle, who that wolde hem beie, 

As he which hadde no liflode,^''^ 

Bot whanne he myhte such a lode 

To toune with his asse carie. 

And as it fell him forto tarie 

That ilke time nyh the pet. 

And hath the trusse faste knet, 30 

He herde a vois, which cride dimme. 

And he his ere to the brimme 

Hath leid, and herde it was a man. 

Which seide, 'Ha, help hier Adrian, 

And I wol yiven half mi good.' 

The povere man this understod, 
As he that wolde gladly winne, 
And to this lord which was withinue 
He spak and seide, * If I thee save, 
What sikernesse ^^ schal I have 40 

9 Halcj^on. 1° Gower's source maybe the 5pectt/«m 
Stultorum of Nigel Wireker (fl. 1190). " unnatural. 
12 by chance, i^ turn. 1* Kentish for pit. is calling. 
16 bundle. i^ livelihood. is security. 



THE TALE OF ADRIAN AND BARDUS 



93 



Of covenant, that afterward 
Thou wolt me yive such reward 
As thou behihtest nou tofore ? ' 

The other hath his othes swore 
By hevene and be the goddes alle, 
If that it myghte so befalle 
That he out of the pet him broghte, 
Of all the goodes whiche he oghte ^ 
He schal have evene halvendel. 

This Bardus seide he wolde wel ; 
And with this word his asse anon 
He let untrusse, and therupon 
Doun goth the corde into the pet, 
To which he hath at ende knet 
A staf, wherby, he seide, he wolde 
That Adrian him scholde holde. 
Bot it was tho per chance falle, 
Into that pet was also falle 
An ape, which at thilke throwe, 
Whan that the corde cam doun lowe, 
Al sodeinli therto he skipte 
And it ill both§ hise amies clipte.^ 
And Bardus with his asse anon 
Him hath updrawe, and he is gon. 
But whan he sih it was an ape. 
He wende al hadde ben a jape ^ 
Of faierie, and sore him dradde : ^ 
And Adrian eftsone gradde ^ 
For help, and cride and preide faste, 
And he eftsone his corde caste ; 
Bot whan it cam unto the grounde, 
A gret serpent it hath bewounde, 
The which Bardus anon up drouh. 
And thanne him thoghte wel ynouh 
It was fantosme, bot yit he herde 
The vois, and he therto ansuerde, 
* What wiht art thou in Goddes name ? ' 

* I am,' quod Adrian, ' the same, 
Whos good thou schalt have evene half.' 
Quod Bardus, * Thanne a Goddes half 
The thridde time assaie I schal ' : 
And caste his corde forth withal 
Into the pet, and whan it cam 
To him, this lord of Rome it nam, 
And therupon him hath adresced, 
And with his hand fulofte blessed, 
And thanne he bad to Bardus hale. 
And he, which understod his tale, 
Betwen him and his asse al softe 
Hath drawe and set him up alofte 
Withouten harm al esely. 
He seith noght ones ' Grant merci,' ^ 

1 owned. 2 caught. ' trick. 

4 he feared ; lit., it dreaded him (dat.). 
B cried again. 6 much thanks. 



70 



80 



Bot strauhte ' him forth to the cite, 

And let this povere Bardus be. 

And natheles this simple man 

His covenant, so as he can. 

Hath axed; and that other seide. 

If so be that he him umbreide ^ 

Of oght that hath be speke or do. 

It schal ben venged on him so, 100 

That him were betre to be ded. 

And he can tho non other red,^ 

But on his asse ayein he caste 

His trusse, and heith homward faste: 

And whan that he cam horn to bedde. 

He tolde his wif hou that he spedde. 

Bot finaly to speke oght more 

Unto this lord he dradde him sore, 

So that a word ne dorste he sein: 

And thus upon the morwe ayein, no 

In the manere as I re corde. 

Forth with his asse and with his corde 

To gadre wode, as he dede er, 

He goth; and whan that he cam ner 

Unto the place where he wolde, 

He hath his ape anon beholde, 

Which hadde gadred al aboute 

Of stickes hiere and there a route,i^ 

And leide hem redy to his hond, 

Wherof he made his trosse and bond. 120 

Fro dai to dai and in this wise 

This ape profreth his servise, 

So that he hadde of wode ynouh. 

Upon a time and as he drouh 

Toward the wode, he sih besyde 

The grete gastli serpent glyde, 

Til that sche cam in his presence. 

And in hir kinde a reverence 

Sche hath him do, and forth withal 

A ston mor briht than a cristall 

Out of hir mouth tofore his weie 

Sche let doun falle, and wente aweie. 

For that he schal noght ben adrad. 

Tho was this povere Bardus glad, 

Thonkende God, and to the ston 

He goth and takth it up anon, 

And hath gret wonder in his wit 

Hou that the beste him hath aquit, 

Wher that the mannes sone hath failed. 

For whom he hadde most travailed. 

Bot al he putte in Goddes hond. 

And torneth hom, and what he fond 

Unto his wif he hath it schewed; 

And thei, that wern bothe lowed, ^^ 

Acorden that he scholde it selle. 

" lit. stretched, i.e. hurried. s reproached. 
» counsel. 10 quantity. n ignorant. 



130 



94 



JOHN GOWER 



And he no lengere wolde duelle, 

Bot forth anon upon the tale 

The ston he profreth to the sale; 

And riht as he himself it sette, 

The jueler anon forth fette 150 

The gold and made his paiement, 

Theiof was no delaiement. 

Thus whan this ston was boght and sold, 
Homvvard with joie many fold 
This Bardus goth ; and whan he cam 
Home to his hous and that he nam 
His gold out of his purs, withina 
He fond his ston also therinne, 
Wlierof for joie his herte pleide, 
Unto his wif and thus he seide, 160 

* Lo, bier my gold, lo, hier mi ston ! ' 
His wif hath wonder therupon, 
And axeth him hou that mai be. 

* Nou be mi trouthe I not,' ^ quod he, 

* Bot I dar swere upon a bok. 
That to my marchant I it tok,^ 
And he it hadde whan I wente: 
So knowe I noght to what entente 
It is nou hier, bot it be grace. 

Forthi tomorwe in other place 170 

I wole it fonde ^ forto sella. 

And if it wol noght with him duelle, 

Bot crepe into mi purs ay em. 

Than dar I saufly ^ swere and sein, 

It is the vertu of the ston.' 

The morwe cam, and he is gon 
To seche aboate in other stede 
His ston to selle, and he so dede. 
And lefte it with his chapman there. 
Bot whan that he cam elles where, 180 

In presence of his wif at hom, 
Out of his purs and that he nom^ 
His gold, he fond his ston withal: 
And thus it fell him overal,^ 
Where he it solde in sondri place, 



1 know not. 
* safely. 



2 gave. 
5 took. 



3 try. 

6 everywhere. 



Such was the fortune and the grace. 
Bot so wel may nothing ben hidd, 
That it nys ate laste kidd:'^ 
This fame goth aboute Rome 
So ferforth, that the wordes come 190 

To themperour Justinian; 
And he let sende for the man, 
And axede him hou that it was. 
And Bardus tolde him al the cas, 
Hou that the worm and ek the beste, 
Althogh thei mac^en no beheste,^ 
His travail hadden wel aquit; 
Bot he which hadde a manues wit, 
And made his covenant be mouthe 
And swor therto al that he couthe 200 

To parte and yiven half his good, 
Hath nou foryete hou that it stod, 
As he which wol no trouthe holde. 
This Emperour al that he tolde 
Hath herd, and thilke uukindenesse 
He seide he wolde himself redresse. 
And thus in court of juggement 
This Adrian was thanne assent. 
And the querele in audience 
Declared was in the presence 210 

Of themperour and many mo; 
Wherof was mochel speche tho 
And gret wondringe among the press. 
Bot ate laste natheles 
For the partie which hath pleigned 
The la we hath diemed ^ and ordeigned 
Be hem that were avised wel. 
That he schal have the halvendel ^° 
Thurghout of Adrianes good. 
And thus of thilke unkinde blod 220 

Stant the memoire into this day, 
Wherof that every wysman may 
Ensamplen him, and take in mynde 
What schame it is to ben unkinde; 
Ayein the which reson debateth. 
And every creature it hateth. 

"> known. 8 promise. » deemed. i" half. 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



THE PROLOGUE 

Here biginneth the Book of the Tales of 
Caunterbury 

Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote ^ 
The droghte of Marche hath perced to the 

rote, 
And bathed every veyne in swich ^ licour, 
Of which vertu engendred is the flour; 
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth 
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth 
The tendre crdppes, and the yonge sonne 
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-roune,^ 
And smale fowles maken melody e, 
That slepen al the night with open ye, lo 
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages^); 
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages 
And palmers for to sekeu straunge 

strondes 
To feme halwes, couthe^ in sondry londes; 
And specially, from every shires ende 
Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, 
The holy blisfnl martir for to seke, 
That hem hath holpen, whan that they 

were seke. 
Bifel that, in that seson on a day, 
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay 20 
Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage 
To Caunterbury with ful devout corage, 
At night was come in-to that hostelrye 
Wei nyne and twenty in a eompanye, 
Of sondry folk, by aventure y-falle 
In felawshipe, and pilgrims were theyalle. 
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde. 
The chambres and the stables weren wyde, 
And wel we weren esed atte beste.^ 
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste. 
So hadde I spoken with hem everichon, 31 
That I was of hir felawshipe anon, 
And made forward" erly for to ryse. 
To take our wey ther as I yow devyse. 

1 sweet. 2 such. 

8 In the first half of April the sun is in the second 
half of the Zodiacal sign of the Ram. 

4 dispositions. * distant saints, renowned. 

8 . made as comfortable as possible. ' agreement. 



But natheles, whyl I have tyme and space, 
Er that I ferther in this tale pace, 
Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun. 
To telle yow al the condicioun 
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me, 
And whiche they weren, and of what 

degree; 40 

And eek in what array that they were inne: 
And at a knight than wol I first biginne. 
A KxiGHT ther was, and that a worthy 

man, 
That fro the tyme that he first bigan 
To ryden out, he loved chivalrye, 
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye. 
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre. 
And thereto hadde he riden (no man 

ferre ^) 
As wel in Cristendom as hethenesse, 
And ever honoured for his worthinesse. 50 
At Alisaundre he was, whan it was 

woune ; 
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne^ 
Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce.'*^ 
In Lettow ^^ hadde he reysed ^'- and in Ruce, 
Ko Cristen man so ofte of his degree. 
In Gernade ^^ at the sege eek hadde he be 
Of Algezir,!"* and riden in Belmarye.^^ 
At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye,^^ 
Whan thev were wonne; and in the Grete 

Seei^ 
At many a noble armee^^ hadde he be. 60 
At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene, 
And foughten for our feith at Tramissene ^^ 
In listes thryes, and ay slayn his fo. 
This like ^^ worthy knight had been also 

8 farther. 

» had the honor of sitting at the head of the table, 
10 Prussia. n Lithuania. 

12 made a campaign. i3 Grenada. 

1* Algeciras near Cape Trafalgar, taken by Alfonso of 
Castile in 1344. 

15 Beumarin and Tremeyen, districts in the north of 
Africa where the Christians and Moors fought. 

16 Ayas and Adalia on the south coast of Asia ilinor. 
1' Mediterranean. 

18 expedition; aryve in one MS., which Skeat pre- 
fers. 
i» same. 



96 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



■ 



Somtyme with the lord of Palatye,^ 
Ageyn ^ another hetheu iu Turkye: 
And evermore he hadde a sovereyn prys.^ 
And thouo^h tliat he were worthy, he was wys, 
And of his port as meke as is a niayde. 
He never yet no vileinye ne sayde 70 

III al his lyf, un-to no nianer wight. 
He was a verray parfit gentil knight. 
But for to tellen yow of his array, 
His hors ^ were gode, but he was nat gay. 
Of fustian ^ he wered a gipoun ^ 
Al bismotered with his habergeoun," 
For he was late y-come from his viage, 
And wente for to doon his pilgrimage. 
With him ther was his sone, a yong 

Squyer, 
A lovyere, and a lusty bacheler,^ 80 

With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in 

presse,^ 
Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse. 
Of his stature he was of evene ^^ lengthe, 
And wonderly deliver,!^ and greet of 

strengthe. 
And he had been somtyme in chivachye,^^ 
In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye, 
And born him wel, as of so litel space, 
In hope to stonden in his lady ^^ grace. 
Embrouded was he, as it were a mede 
Al ful of fresshe floures, whyte and rede. 90 
Singinge he was, or floytinge," al the day; 
He was as fresh as is the month of May. 
Short was his goune, with sieves longe and 

wyde. 
Wel coude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde. 
He coude souges make and wel endyte,i^ 
Juste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye 

and wryte. 
So bote he lovede, that by nightertale "^ 
He sleep namore than dooth a nightingale. 
Curteys he was, lowly, and servisable. 
And carf ^'^ biforn his fader at the table. 100 
A Yeman 1^ hadde he, and servaunts namo 
At that tyme, for him liste ryde so; 
And he was clad in cote and hood of grene ; 
A sheef of pecok-arwes brighte and kene 

1 Palatia, in Asia Minor or in the Sea of Marmora, 
a against. ^ reputation. 

4 N.B. the plural — a long-stem neuter noun in Anglo- 
Saxon. (Cf. yeer in 1. 82.) 

5 coarse cloth. 6 doublet. 

7 stained by the iron rings of his coat-of-mail. 

8 aspirant for knighthood. 

» curly, as if from curling-tongs or some such ma- 
chine. 

10 medium. 11 active. i* cavalry expeditions. 

13 lady's — an old feminine genitive. i< piping. 

15 compose both words and music of songs. 

16 night-time. " carved. la Yeoman. 



Under his belt he bar ful thriftily; 
(Wel coude he dresse his takel yemanly: 
His arwes drouped noght with fetheres 

lowe). 
And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe. 
A not-heed i" hadde he, with a broun visage. 
Of wode-craf t wel coude he al the usage, no 
Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer,^^ 
And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler, 
And on that other syde a gay daggere, 
Harneised^i wel, and sharp as point of 

spere; 
A Cristofre ^^ on his brest of silver shene.^^ 
An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene; 
A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse. 

Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse, 
That of hir smyling was ful simple and 

coy; 24 

Hir gretteste ooth was — Ajut by seynt 
Loy;25 ^^^ 

And she was cleped madame Eglentyne. 
Ful wel she song the service divyne, 
Entuned in hir nose ful semely; 
And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly,^ 
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,^' 
For Frensh of Paris was to hir unkuowe. 
At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle; 
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle, 
Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe. 
Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel 

kepe, 130 

That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest. 
In curteisye was set ful muche hir lest.^^ 
Hir over lippe wyped she so clene. 
That in hir coppe was no ferthing ^^ sene 
Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir 

draughte. 
Ful semely after hir mete she raughte,^ 
And sikerly ^^ she was of greet disport,^ 
And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port, 
And peyned hir to comitrefete chere 
Of court, and been estatlich^^ of manere, 140 
And to ben holden digne^^ of reverence. 
But, for to speken of hir conscience, 
She was so charitable and so pitous, 
She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous 
Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or 

bledde. 
Of smale houudes had she, that she fedde 

19 cropped pate. 20 To protect the forearm from 

the bowstring. 21 Adorned. 23 image of St. 

Christopher. 23 fair. 24 shy. 

25 On this favorite saint see the article by J. L. 
Lowes in the Romanic Review, v, 368. 

26 elegantly. 27 a convent near London. 28 pleas- 
ure. 29 smallest trace. 3" reached. 3i verily. 
32 was a good-natured person. 33 (jignified. »« worthy. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



97 



With rested flesh, or milk and wastel- 

breed.^ 
But sore weep she if oon of hem were 

deed, 
Or if men 2 sm.oot it with a yerde smerte:^ 
And al was conscience and tendre herte. 
Ful semely hir wimpel pinched '* was ; 151 
Hir nose tretys ; "^ hir ey en greye as glas ; 
Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and 

reed; 
But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed; 
It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; 
For, hardily," she was nat undergrowe. 
Ful fetis " was hir cloke, as I was war. 
Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar 
A peire ^ of bedes, gauded^ al with grene; 
And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful 

shene, 160 

On which ther was first write a crowned A, 
And after. Amor vincii omnia. 

Another NdNNE with hir hadde she, 
That was hir chapeleyne, and Preestes 

THREE. 

A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrye,^*^ 
An out-rydere,^^ that lovede venerye; 
A manly man, to been an abbot able. 
Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in 

stable : 
And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel 

here 
Ginglen in a whistling wind as clere, 170 
And eek as loude as dooth the chapel- 
belle. 
Ther as this lord was keper of the celle,^^ 
The reule of seint Maure or of seint Beneit,^^ 
By-cause that it was old and som-del 

streit, — 14 
This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace. 
And held after the newe world the space. 
He yaf nat of that text a pulled ^'^ hen. 
That seith, that himters been nat holy men; 
Ne that a monk, whan he is cloisterlees,^^ 
Is lykned til a fish that is waterless; i8o 
This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre. 
But thilke text held he nat worth an 
oistre ; 

1 a fine sort of bread — almost cake. * one. 'with 
a stick smartly. ^ pleated. s well shaped. 8 cer- 
tainly. 7 elegant. » string. 

9 After every ten corals of her rosary was a green 
bead. 

10 a preeminent one. 

11 one that had to oversee the manors belonging to 
his convent. 

12 subordinate convent. 

13 St. Maur and St. Benedict are two of the founders of 
the great, strict Benedictine order in the sixth century. 

' " strict. 15 plucked. is recchelees iu most MSS. 



And I seyde, his opinioun was good. 
What sholde he studie, and make himselven 

wood," 
Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure. 
Or swinken ^^ with his handes, and laboure, 
As Austin bit ^^ ? How shal the world be 

served ? 
Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved. 
Therfore he was a pricasour^'^ aright; 
Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel 

in flight; 190 

Of priking ^^ and of hunting for the hare 
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. 
I seigh his sieves purfiled -^ at the hond 
With grys,"^ and that the fyneste of a lond; 
And, for to festne his hood under his chin, 
He hadde of gold y-wroght a curious pin: 
A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was. 
His heed was balled,^^ that shoon as any 

glas. 
And eek his face, as he had been anoint. 
He was a lord ful fat and in good point ; ^^ 200 
His eyen stepe,^^ and roUinge in his heed, 
That stemed as a forneys of a leed;^" 
His botes souple, his hors iu greet estat. 
Now certeinly he was a fair prelat; 
He was nat pale as a for-pyned -^ goost. 
A fat swan loved he best of any roost. 
His palfrey was as broun as is a berye. 
A Frere ther was, a wantown and a 

merye, 
A limitour,29 a ful solempne ^ man. 
In alle the ord res f oure ^^ is noon that can ^^ 2 10 
So muche of daliaunce and fair langage. 
He hadde maad ful many a mariage 
Of yonge wommen, at his owne cost. 
Un-to his ordre he was a noble post.^^ 
Ful wel biloved and famulier was he 
With frankeleyns ^"^ over-al in his contree, 
And eek with worthy wommen of the 

toun; 
For he had power of confessioun, 
As seyde him-self, more than a curat, 
For of his ordre he was licentiat. 220 

Ful sweetly herde he confessioun, 
And plesaunt was his absolucioun; 

17 crazy. 18 work. i* St. Augustine bids. 

20 enthusiastic rider. 21 riding, lit. "spurring." 

-- adorned. 23 fur. 24 bald. 25 stout, en bon 
point. 26 bright, protruding. 

27 His head steamed like the vat of a distilling appa- 
ratus ; or, his eyes shone like the fire under a cauldron. 

28 tormented. 

29 one licensed to beg in a limited district. 

30 important. 

31 Dominicans, Franciscans, Carmelites, and Austin 
Friars. 

3- knows. 33 pillar. 34 rich farmers. 



98 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



He was an esy man to yeve penaiince 
Ther as he wiste to lian ^ a good pitaunce ; 
For unto a povre ordre for to yive 
Is signe that a man is wel y-shrive. 
For if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt, 
He wiste that a man was repentaunt. 
For many a man so hard is of his herte, 
He may nat wepe al-thogh him sore 

smerte. 230 

Therfore, in stede of weping and preyeres, 
Men moot ^ yeve silver to the povre freres. 
His tipet was ay farsed ^ f ul of knyves 
And pinnes, for to yeven faire wyves. 
And certeinly he hadde a mery note; 
Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote.^ 
Of yeddinges ^ he bar utterly the prys. 
His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys; 
Ther-to he strong was as a champioun. 
He knew the tavernes wel in every toun, 240 
And everich hostiler and tappestere,^ 
Bet than a lazar or a beggestere; '' 
For un-to swieh a worthy man as he 
Acorded nat, as by his facultee,^ 
To have with seke lazars aqneyntaunce. 
It is nat honest, it may nat avaunee 
For to delen with no swieh poraille,^ 
But al with riche and sellers of vitaille. 
And over-al ther as ^° profit sholde aryse 
Curteys he was, and lowly of servyse. 250 
Ther nas no man no-wher so vertuous. 
He was the beste beggere in his hous; ^^ 
For thogh a widwe hadde noght a sho,i2 
So plesaunt was his * In principio,^ ^^ 
Yet wolde he have a ferthing, er he 

wente. 
His purchas was welbettre than his rente. ^^ 
And rage ^^ he coude, as it were right a 

whelpe.^^ 
In love-dayes ^"^ ther coude he muchel 

helpe. 
For there he was nat lyk a cloisterer,!^ 
With a thredbar cope, as is a povre 

seoler, 260 

But he was lyk a maister or a pope. 
Of double worsted was his semi-cope,!^ 

1 knew he should have. 2 One should. ' stuffed. 
* fiddle. 5 In songs. 6 bar-maid. 

7 Better than he did any leper or beggar-woman. 

8 It was not suitable, considering his profession. 

9 poor trash. 10 And everywhere that. 

11 One MS. inserts here : 

And yaf a certejii f erme for the graunt ; 
Noon of his bretheren cam ther in his haunt; 

12 shoe. 13 John, i, 1, a favorite phrase with friars. 
1* What he begged (purcJms) was more than his 

regular income {rent). 

15 behave violently, wantonly. 16 young dog. 

17 arbitration days. is recluse. i» short cape. 



That rounded as a belle out of the presse.^^ 
Somw'hat he lipsed, for his wantownesse, 
To make his English swete up-on his tonge; 
And in his harping, whan that he had souge, 
His eyen twinkled in his heed aright. 
As doon the sterres in the frosty night. 
This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd. 
A March ANT was ther with a forked 

herd, 270 

In mottelee,^' and hye on horse he sat, 
Up-on his heed a Flaundrish bever hat; 
His botes clasped taire and fetisly. 
His resons he spak ful solempnely, 
Souniuge ^^ alway th'encrees of his win- 
ning. 
He wolde the see were kept for any thing 
Bitwixe Middel burgh and Orewelle.^^ 
Wel coude he in eschaunge sheeldes 

selle.24 
This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;^^ 
Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, 280 
So estatly was he of his governaunce, 
With his bargayues, and with his chevi- 

saunce.^^ 
For sotlie he was a worthy man with-alle, 
But sooth to seyn, I noot ^7 how men him 

calle. 
A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, 
That un-to logik hadde longe y-go. 
As lene was his hors as is a rake, 
And he nas nat right fat, I undertake; 
But loked holwe, and ther-to soberly. 
Ful thredbar was his overestcourtepy; 28 290 
For he had geten him yet no benefyce, 
Ne was so worldly for to have offyce. 
For him was lever ^9 have at his beddes 

heed 
Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed, 
Of Aristotle and his philosophye, 
Than robes riche, or fithele,^° or gay sau- 

trye.^i 
But al be that he was a philosophre. 
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre; ^ 
But al that he mighte of his freendes 

hente,^^ 
On bokes and on lerninge he it spente, scx) 

20 It had been kept on a form, or clothes-press. 

21 a mixed stuff. 22 Relating to. 

23 He wanterl the sea-route between these ports kept 
guarded and open at any expense. 

24 sell money at exchange — very likely an illegal 
business. 

^5 employed. 26 shifts for raising money. 27 know 
not. 28 outermost cloak. 29 he would rather. 

30 fiddle. 31 psaltery, dulcimer. 

32 The alchemists, who pretended to change baser 
metals to gold, were also termed philosophers. 

33 get. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



99 



And bisily gan for the soules preye 

Of hem thatyaf him wher-withto scoleye.^ 

Of studie took he most cure ^ and most 

hede. 
Noght o word spak he more than was nede, 
And that was seyd in forme and reverence, 
And short and quik, and f ul of hy sentence. 
Souninge in ^ moral vertu was his spec he, 
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly 

teche. 
A Sergeant of the Lawe, war and wys, 
That often hadde been at the parvys,^ 310 
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. 
Discreet he was, and of greet reverence: 
He semed swich, his wordes weren so wyse. 
Justyce he was ful often in assyse. 
By patente, and by pleyn coiniuissioun; 
For his science, and for his heigh renoun 
Of fees and robes hadde he many oou. 
So greet a purchasour ^ was no-wher 

noon. 
Al was fee simple to him in efPect,^ 
His purchasing mighte nat been infect.'^ 320 
No-wher so bisy a man as he ther uas, 
And yet he semed bisier than he was. 
In termes hadde he caas and domes alle,^ 
That from the tyme of king William were 

falle. 
Therto he coude endyte, and make a tiling,^ 
Ther coude no wight pinehe at his wrytiiig; 
And every statut coude he pleyn by rote. 
He rood but hoomly in a medlee eote^*^ 
Girt with a ceint" of silk, with barres^^ 

smale; 
Of his array telle I no lenger tale. 330 

A Frankeleyn was in his companye; 
Whyt was his herd, as is the dayesye. 
Of his complexioun ^^ he was sangwyn. 
Wei loved he by the morwe ^'^ a sop in 

wyn.i^ 
To liven in delyt was ever his wone,^^ 
For lie was Epicurus owne sone. 
That heeld opinioun, that pleyn delyt 
Was verraily felicitee parfyt. 
An housholdere, and that a greet, was he; 
Seint Julian ^"^ he was in his contree. 340 

1 study. 2 care. ' Tending toward. 

4 the porch of St. Paul's, a lawyers' haunt. 
B possibly, conveyancer. 

6 Apparently— " He could get about, bring to naught, 
all restrictions on land." 

7 invalidated. 8 He could cite cases precisely. 
• compose and write out a deed, etc. 

10 coat of divers colors. n girdle. 

12 transverse metal bands on the girdle. 

13 temperament, as well as coloring. 

14 in the morning. i^ wine with cake or bread in it. 
16 custom. 17 Patron samt of hospitality. 



His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;^^ 
A bettre envyned ^^ man was no-wher noon. 
With-oute bake mete^*^ was never his hous, 
Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous 
It snewed^^ in his hous of mete and driuke, 
Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke. 
After the sondry sesons of the yeer. 
So chaunged he his mete and his soper. 
Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe,22 
And many a breem and many a luce in 

stewe.23 ^^Q 

Wo 24 was his cook, but-if ^5 his sauce were 
Poynaimt and sharp, and redy al his gere. 
His table dormant ^6 in his halle alway 
Stood redy covered al the longe day. 
At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire; 
Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire. 
An aulas ^^ and a gipser ^s al of silk 
Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk. 
A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour;-^ 
Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour. ^'^ 360 

An Haberdassher and a Carpenter, 
A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapicer,^! 
Were with us eek, clothed in o liveree ^^ 
Of a solempne and greet fraternitee.^^ 
Ful fresh and newe iiir gere apyked'^^ was; 
Hir knyves were y-chaped ^ noght with 

bras. 
But al with silver, wroght ful clene and 

we el, 
Hir girdles and hir pouches every-deel. 
AVel semed ecli of hem a fair burgejs, 
To sitten in a yeldhalle ^^ on a de\ s. 370 
Everich, for the wisdom that he can. 
Was shaply for to been an alderman. 
For catel ■^" hadde they y-nogh and rente, 
And eek hir wyves wolde it wel assente; 
And elles certein were they to blame. 
It is ful fair to been y-clept ' 771a damSy 
And goon to vigilyes ^^ al bif ore. 
And have a mantel royalliche y-bore. 
A Cook they hadde with hem for the 

nones, 
To boille the chiknes with the marybones. 
And poudre-marchant tart,^^ and gahn- 

gale.-^*^ 3S1 

Wel coude he knowe a draughte of London 

ale. 

18 imiform m quality. " with a better wine-cellar. 
20 meat pies. 21 snowed. 22 captivity. 23 fish- 
pond. 24 Woeful. 25 unless. 26 a permanent 
dining-table — not boards on trestles. 27 dagger. 
28 pouch. 29 accountant, treasurer. so landholder, 
squire. si weaver, dyer, and upholsterer. 32 dis- 
tinctive dress. 33 guild. 3^ trimmed. 3s mounted. 
36 guildhall. 37 property 38 the eves of festivals 
" tart flavoring-powder. *o a spice. 



lOO 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



w§ 



He coude roste, and sethe, and broille, and 

frye, 
Maken niortreux,i and wel bake a pye. 
But greet harm was it, as it thouohte me, 
That on his shine a mormal - hadde lie. 
For bhinkuianger,^ that made he with the 

beste. 
A Shipman was ther, woning fer by 

weste : ^ 
For aught I woot, he was of Dertemouthe. 
He rood np-on a rouncy,'^ as he couthe,*^ 390 
In a gowne of falding " to the knee. 
A daggere hanging on a laas ^ hadde he 
Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun. 
The bote somer had maad his hewe al 

bronn; 
And, certeiuly, he was a good felawe. 
Ful many a draughte of wyn had he 

y-drawe 
From Burdeux-ward,^ whyl that the chap- 
man sleep. 
Of nyce conscience took he no keep. 
If that he faught, and hadde the hyer 

bond, 
By water he sente hem boom to every 

lond,^o 400 

But of his craft to rekene wel his tydes, 
His stremes and his daungers him bisydes,^^ 
His herberwe ^2 and his mone, his lode- 

menage,i-3 
Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cart- 
age. 
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake; 
With many a tempest hadde his herd been 

shake. 
He knew wel alle the havenes, as they 

were. 
From Gootlond ^^ to the cape of Finistere, 
And every cryke in Britayne and in 

Spayne ; 409 

His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne. 

With us ther was a DocTOUR OF Phisyk, 
In al this world ne was ther noon him 

lyk 
To speke of phisik and of surgerye; 
For he was grounded in astronomy e. 
He kepte his pacient a ful greet del 
In houres, by his magik naturel.^^ 

1 stews. 2 sore. ^ blanc-mange, i.e. minced, 

spiced chicken. * dwelling in the west of England. 

5 an awkward nag. 6 as best he knew how. "> coarse 
woollen. 8 line. ^ stolen drinks out of the casks 
he was bringing from Bordeaux. 10 threw them over- 
board. 11 near him. 12 harbor. i3 pilotage. 

1^ The island Gottland. 

15 B}- astrology he took advantage of those conjunc- 
tions of the stars which best suited his patient. 



Wel coude he fortunen the ascendent 
Of his images 1° for his pacient. 
He knew the cause of everich maladye, 
Were it of hoot or cold, or moiste, or 

drye,i7 420 

And where engendred, and of what hu- 
mour; 
He was a verrey parfit practisour. 
The cause y-knowe, and of his harm the 

rote, 
Anon he yaf the seke man his bote.i^ 
Ful redy hadde he his apothecaries. 
To sende him drogges and his letuaries,!^ 
For ech of hem made other for to winne; 
Hir freudschipe nas nat newe to biginne. 
Wel knew he th'olde Esculapius, 
And Deiscorides, and eek Rufus, 430 

Old Ypocras, Haly, and Galien; 
Serapion, Razis, and Avicen; 
Averrois, Damascien, and Constantyn; 
Bernard, and Gatesden, and Gilbertyn.^o 
Of his diete mesurable was he. 
For it was of no superfluitee. 
But of greet norissing and digestible. 
His studie was but litel on the Bible. 
In sangwin and in pers '-^i he clad was al, 
Lyned with taffata and with sendal, ^^ 440 
And yet he was but esy of dispence;^^ 
He kepte that he wan in pestilence. 
For gold in phisik is a cordial,"^* 
Therfore he lovede gold in special. 

A good Wyf was ther of bisyde Bathe, 
But she was som-del ^^ deef, and that was 

scathe. 26 
Of clooth-making she hadde swiche an 

haunt,2" 
She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt. 
In al the parisshe wyf ne was ther noon 
That to th' ofPring bifore hir sholde 

goon; 450 

And if ther dide, certeyn, so wrooth was 

she, 
That she was out of alle charitee. 
Hir coverchiefs ful fyne were of groimd;^^ 
I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound 
That on a Sonday were upon hir heed. 
Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed, 

16 He made his talismans just when the stars were 
most propitious. An ascendant is the degree of the 
zodi iC at which a star rises above the eastern horizon. 

17 The four qualities of the body. 

18 remedy. i^ electuary, syrup. 

20 All great medical authorities, the last two being 
Englishmen, and Bernard a Scot. 

21 blood-red and sky-blue. 

22 thin silk. 23 a small spender. 

24 Tincture of gold was used to strengthen the heart. 

25 somewhat. 26 a shame. 27 knack. 2s weave. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



lOI 



Ful streite y-teyd, and shoos ful moiste 

and newe. 
Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of 

hewe. 
She was a worthy womman al hir lyve, 
Housbondes at chirche-dore ^ she hadde 

fyve, _ 460 

Withouten other companye in youthe; 
But therof nedeth nat to spake as nouthe.^ 
And thryes hadde she been at Jerusalem; 
She hadde passed many a straunge streem ; 
At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne, 
In Galice at seint Jame,^ and at Coloigne. 
She coude muche of wandring by the vveye : 
Gat-tothed^ was she, soothly for to seye. 
Up-on an amblere ^ esily she sat, 
Y-wimpled ^ wel, and on hir heed an hat 470 
As brood as is a bokeler or a targe; 
A foot-mantelr aboute hir hipes large. 
And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe. 
In felawschip wel coude she laughe and 

carpe." 
Of remedyes of love she knew perchaunce, 
For she coude of that art the olde daunce.^ 

A good man was ther of religioun. 
And was a povre Persoun ^ of a toun ; 
But riche he was of holy thoght and werk. 
He was also a lerned man, a clerk, 480 

That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche; 
His parisshens ^° devoutly wolde he teche. 
Benigne he was, and wonder diligent, 
And in adversitee ful pacient; 
And swich he was y-preved ofte sythes. 
Fullooth were him to cursenforhis tythes, 
But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute, 
Un-to his povre parisshens aboute 
Of his offring, and eek of his substannce. 
He coude in litel thing ban suffisaunce. 490 
Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a- 

sonder. 
But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thonder, 
In siknes nor in meschief, to visyte 
The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte, 
Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf. 
This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf, 
That first he wroghte, and afterward he 

taughte; 
Out of the gospel ^^ he tho wordes caughte; 
And this figure he added eek ther-to. 
That if gold ruste, what shal iren do ? 500 

1 The ceremony was at the door. 

2 just now. 3 Compostella in Spain. 

* With gaps between her teeth ; or else goat-toothed, 
i.e. lascivious. 5 ambling nag. ^ with a pleated 
hood. 7 joke. 8 tricks. 9 Parson. i" parish- 
. loners. ^^ Matthew, y^ 19. 



For if a preest be foul, on whom we 

truste, 
No wonder is a lewed man to ruste; 
And shame it is, if a preest take keep,^ 
A shiten sbepherde and a cleue sheep. 
Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive. 
By his clennesse, how that his sheep shold 

live. 
He sette nat his benefice to hyre. 
And leet his sheep encombred in the 

myre. 
And ran to London, un-to seynt Poules, 
To seken him a chauuterie for soules,^^ 510 
Or with a bretherhed to been withholde; ^^ 
But dvvelte at hoora, and kepte wel his 

folde. 
So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie; 
He was a sbepherde and no mercenarie. 
And though he holy were, and vertuous. 
He was to simple man nat despitous, 
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,i^ 
But in his teching discreet and benigne. 
To drawen folk to heven by fairnesse 
By good ensample, was his bisinesse: 520 
But it were any persone obstinat, 
What-so he were, of heigh or lowe estat, 
Him wolde he snibben^*^ sharply for the 

nones. 
A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon 

is. 
He wayted after no pompe and reverence, 
Ne maked him a spyced conscience, 
But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, 
He taughte, and first he folwed it him- 

selve. 
With him ther was a Plowman, was his 

brother, 
That hadde y-lad of dong ful many a 

fother,!''' 530 

A trewe swinker ^^ and a good was he, 
Livinge in pees and parfit charitee. 
God loved he best with al his hole herte 
At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or 

smerte,!^ 
And thanne his neighebour right as him- 

selve. 
He wolde thresshe, and ther-to dyke and 

delve, 
For Cristes sake, for every povre wight, 
Withouten hyre, if it lay in his might, 

12 heed. 

13 At St. Paul's were thirty-five chantries, where 
fifty-four priests said masses for the repose of souls. 

1^ to be a guild chaplain. is haughty. i^ snub. 
17 load. 18 worker, i* though he had good fortune 
or bad. 



102 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



His tythes payed he ful faire and wel, 
Bothe of his propre swiuk and his catel.^ 
In a tabard - he rood upon a mere. 541 

Ther was also a Reve and a Millere, 
A Sotnnour' and a Pardoner ' also, 
A Mauneiple,*^ and my-self; ther were 

namo. 
The Miller was a stout carl, for the 

nones, 
Ful big he was of braun, and eek of 

bones ; 
That proved wel ^ for over-al ther he cam, 
At wrastling he wolde have alwey the 

ram." 
He was short-sholdred,^ brood, a tliikke 

knarre,^ 
Ther nas na dore that he nolde heve of 



harre,^ 



550 



Or breke it, at a penning, with his heed. 
His herd as any sowe or fox was reed, 
And ther-to brood, as though it were a 

spade. 
Up-on the cop ^^ right of his nose he hade 
A werte, and ther-on stood a tuft of heres, 
Reed as the bristles of a sowe's eres; 
His nose-thirles ^^ blake were and wyde. 
A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde ; 
His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys. 
He was a janglere ^^ and a goliardeys,^^ 560 
And that was most of sinne and har- 

lotryes.i^ 
Wel coude he stelen corn, and toUen 

thryes ; ^ 
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold,i'^ 

pardee. 
A whyte cote and a blew hood wered he. 
A baggepype wel coude he blowe and 

sowne, 
And ther-with-al he broghte us out of 

towne. 
A gentil Maunciple was ther of a tem- 

ple,i8 
Of which achatours ^^ mighte take exemple 
For to be wyse in bying of vitaille 
For whether that he payde, or took by 

taille,20 570 

1 by working himself and by giving of his property. 

2 peasants' sleeveless coat. 

3 A summoner cited culprits before the ecclesiastical 
court. * A pardoner hawked indulgences. 5 steward, 
caterer. ^ vvas certainly so. "^ the prize. 8 short 
in the upper arm. 9 chunk of a man. i" hinge. 
11 tip. 12 nostrils. i3 chatterer. 1* teller of inde- 
cent stories. i5 wicked pranks. is take triple toll. 

17 Probably because it was expert in judging the 
fineness of his flour. The phrase was proverbial. 

18 college of lawyers. i9 purchasers. 
20 on credit, i.e. by tally. 



Algate -^ he wayted so in his achat,22 
'J'hat he was ay biforn and in good stat. 
Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace, 
That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace 
The wisdom of an heep of lerned men ? 
Of maistres hadde he mo than thryes ten, 
That were of la we expert and curious; 
Of which ther were a doseyn in that hous 
Worthy to been stiwardes of rente and 

lond 
Of any lord that is in Engelond, 580 

To make him live by his propre good, 
In honour dettelees, but he were wood,^^ 
Or live as scarsly as him list desire; 
And able for to helpen al a shire 
In any cas that mighte falle or happe; 
And yit this maunciple sette hir aller 

cappe.24 
The Reve was a sclendre colerik man, 
His herd was shave as ny as ever he 

can. 
His heer was by his eres round y-shorn. 589 
His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn .^^ 
Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene, 
Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene. 
Wel coude he kepe a gerner and a binne; 
Ther was noon auditour coude on him 

winne.26 
Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the 

reyn. 
The yelding of his seed, and of his greyn. 
His lordes sheep, his neet,^" his dayerye, 
His swyn, his liors, his stoor,^'* and his pul- 

trye, ^ 
Was hoolly in this reves governing, 
And by his covenaunt yaf the rekening, 600 
Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age ; 
Ther coude no man bringe him in arrear- 
age. ^^ 
Ther nas baillif, ne herde,^*^ ne other 

hyne,^i 
That he ne knew his sleighte and his 

covyne;^^ 
They were adrad of him, as of the deeth. 
His woning ^^ was ful fair up-on an heeth, 
With grene trees shadwed was his place. 
He coude bettre than his lord purchace. 
Ful riche he was astored prively, 
His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly, 610 

21 At any rate. 22 purchase. 23 unless he was crazy. 

24 fooied them all , "aller " is an old genitive plural, 
A. S. enlra. 

25 His hair was cut short across the front, like a 
priest's. 

26 get the better of him. ^^ cattle. 28 farm stock. 
29 catch him in arrears. so herdsman. 3i farm 

servant. 32 trickery. S3 dwelling. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



103 



To yeve and leiie him of his owne good, 
And have a thank, and yet a cote and 

hood. 
In you the he lerned hadde a good mis- 
ter,! 
He was wel good wrighte, a carpenter. 
This reve sat up-ou a ful good stot,^ 
That was al pomely giej,^ and highte 

Scot. 
A long surcote of pers up-on he hade, 
And by his syde he bar a rusty blade. 
Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I 

telle, 
Bisyde a toun men clepen Baldeswelle. 620 
Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute. 
And ever he rood the hindreste of our 

route. 
A SoMNOUR was ther with us in that 

place, * 
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubinnes face. 
For savvcefleem ^ he was, with eyen narwe. 
As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe ; 
With scalled ^ browes blake, and piled ^ 

berd ; 
Of his visage children were aferd. 
Ther nas quik-silver, litarge," ne brimstoon. 
Boras, cernce,^ ne oille of tartre noon, 630 
Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte, 
That him mighte helpen of his whelkes 

whyte, 
Nor of the knobbes sittinge on his chekes. 
Wel loved he garleek, onyons, and eek 

lekes. 
And for to drinken strong wyn, reed as 

blood. 
Than wolde he speke, and crye as he were 

wood. 
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the 

wyn. 
Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. 
A fewe termes hadde he, two or three, 
That he had lerned out of some decree; 640 
No wonder is, he herde it al the day ; 
And eek ye knowen wel, how that a jay 
Can clepen ' Watte,' ^ as well as can the pope. 
But who-so coude in other thing him grope,i° 
Thanne hadde he spent al his philosophye; 
Ay * Questio quid iu7'is,^ ^^ wolde he crye. 
He was a gentil harlot ^^ and a kinde ; 

1 trade. 2 cob. s dapple gray. * pimpled. 

6 scabby. « thin. ^ ointment prepared from 

protoxide of lead. » white-lead. 

9 i.e. Walter. Jays were called Wat as parrots are 
called Polly, and it was a medifeval joke to teach them 
to say " Wat shrew," cursing themselves. 

10 teet. 11 " What 'a the law here ? " " rogue. 



A bettre felawe sholde men noght finde. 
He wolde suffre, for a quart of wyn, 
A good felawe to have his concubyn 650 
A twelf-month, and excuse him atte fulle: 
Ful prively a finch eek coude he pulle.^^ 
And if he fond o-wher a good felawe, 
He wolde techen him to have non awe, 
In swich cas, of the erchedeknes curs, 
But-if a mannes soule were in his purs; 
For in his purs he sholde y-punisshed be. 
'Purs is the erchedeknes helle,' seyde 

he. 
But wel I woot he lyed right in dede; 
Of cursing oghte ech gilty man him drede — 
For curs wol slee, right as assoilling sav- 

eth — 661 

And also war him of a signijicavit.^^ 
In daunger^^ hadde he at his owne gyse 
The yonge girles ^^ of the diocyse, 
And knew hir counseil, and was al hir reed. 
A gerland hadde he set up-on his heed, 
As greet as it were for an ale-stake,i" 
A bokeler hadde he maad him of a cake. 

With him ther rood a gentil Pardoner 
Of Rouncival,!^ his freend and his com- 
peer, 670 
That streight was comen fro the court of 

Rome. 
Ful loude he song, ' Com hider, love, to 

me.' 
This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun,!^ 
Was never tronipe of half so greet a soim. 
This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as 

wex, 
But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike ^o of 

flex; 
By ounces 21 henge his lokkes thet he hadde. 
And ther-with he his shuldres over- 

spradde; 
But thinne it lay, by colpons ^ con and 

oon; 23 
But hood, for jolitee, ne wered he noon, 680 
For it was trussed up in his walet. 
Him thoughte, ^^ he rood al of the newe 

jet,25 
Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. 
Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. 
A vernicle -^ hadde he sowed on his cappe. 
His walet lay biforn him in his la^pe, 

13 fleece a gull. i^ A writ of excommunication. 

15 Within his power. 18 youth of either sex. 

17 Sign of an ale-house. i* The name of a hospital 
in Charing. i9 bass. 2" hank. 21 small portions. 

22 shreds. 23 here and there. 24 it seemed to 

him. 25 the late.st fashion. 

26 Miniature of St. Veronica's handkerchief with the 
face of Christ— a token of his having been at Rome. 



104 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Bret-f ul 1 of pardoun come from Rome al 

hoot. 
A voys he hadde as small as hath a goot. 
No herd hadde he, never sholde have, 
As smothe it was as it were late y-shave; 690 
I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. 
But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, 
Ne was ther swich another pardoner. 
For in his male ^ he hadde a pilwe-beer,^ 
Which that he seyde was our lady veyl: 
He seyde he hadde a gobet of the seyl 
That seynt Peter hadde, whan that he 

wente 
Up-on the see, til Jesu Crist him hente. 
He hadde a croys of latoun,'* ful of stones. 
And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. 700 
But with thise relikes, whan that he fond 
A povre person dwelling up-on lond, 
Up-on a day he gat him more moueye 
Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. 
And thus, with feyned flaterye and japes. 
He made the person and the peple his apes. 
But trewely to tellen, atte laste 
He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. 
Wei coude he rede a lessoun or a storie, 
But alderbest^ he song an offertorie; 710 
For wel he wiste, whan that song was 

songe. 
He moste ^ preche, and wel affyle '^ his 

tonge, 
To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; 
Therefore he song so meriely and loude. 

Now have I told you shortly, in a clause, 
Th'estat, th'array, the nombre, and eek the 

cause 
Why that assembled was this companye 
In Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye, 
That highte the Tabard, faste by the 

Belle. 
But now is tyme to yow for to telle 720 
How that we baren us that ilke night, 
Whan we were in that hostelrye alight. 
And after wol I telle of our viage. 
And al the remenaimt of our pilgrimage. 
But first I pray yow, of your curteisye, 
That ye n'arette ^ it nat my vileinye, 
Thogh that I pleynly speke in this ma- 

tere, 
To telle yow hir wordes and hir chere; 
Ne thogh I speke hir wordes properly. 
For this ye knowen al-so wel as I, 730 

1 Brim-full. 2 mail, wallet. 3 pillowslip. * a metal 
compounded chiefly of copper and zinc. 6 best of all. 
6 might. 7 polish. » reckon. 



Who-so shal telle a tale after a man, 

He moot reherce, as ny as ever he can, 

Everich a word, if it be in his charge, 

Al speke he never so rudeliche and large; ^ 

Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, 

Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe. 

He may nat spare, al-thogh he were his 

brother; 
He moot as wel seye o word as another, 
Crist spak him-self ful brode in holy writ, 
And wel ye w^oot, no vileinye is it. 740 

Eek Plato seith,!*^ who-so that can him 

rede. 
The wordes mote be cosin to the dede. 
Also I prey yow to foryeve it me, 
Al have I nat set folk in hir degree ^^ 
Here in this tale, as that they sholde stonde; 
My wit is short, ye may wel understonde. 
Greet chere made our hoste us eve- 

richon, 
And to the soper sette us anon; 
And served us with vitaille at the beste. 
Strong was the wyn, and wel to driuke us 

leste.i2 yjo 

A semely man our hoste was with-alle 
For to han been a marshal in an halle; 
A large man he was with eyen stepe,^^ 
A fairer burgeys is ther noon in Chepe: ^* 
Bold of his speche, and wys, and wel 

y-taught, 
And of nianhod him lakkede right naught. 
Eek therto he was right a mery man, 
And after soper pleyen he bigan. 
And spak of mirthe amonges othere thinges. 
Whan that we hadde maad our reken- 

inges; 760 

And seyde thus : ' Now, lordinges, trewely. 
Ye been to me right welcome hertely: 
For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye, 
I ne saugh this yeer so mery a companye 
At ones in this herberwe as is now. 
Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how. 
And of a mirthe I am right now bithoght, 
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste 

noght. 
* Ye goon to Cannterbury ; God yow spede, 
The blisf ul martir quyte yow your mede. 770 
And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye, 
Ye shapen yow to talen^^ and to pleye; 
For trewely, confort ne mirthe is noon 
To ryde by the weye doumb as a stoon; 

9 freely. 

10 Boethius, bk. Ill, prose 12 ; Plato's Timaeus, 29 B. 
ii in order of precedence. 

12 we were disposed — lesie is Kentish dfalect. 

13 prominent. i* Cheapside. i* tell stories. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



And therfore wol I maken yow disport, 
As I seyde erst/ and doon yow som confort. 
And if yow lyketh alle, by oon assent, 
Now for to stonden at my jugement, 
And for to werken as I shal yow seye, 
To-morwe, whan ye ryden by the weye, 780 
Now, by my fader^ soule, that is deed. 
But ye be merye, I wol yeve yow myn heed. 
Hold up your bond, withouten more speche.' 
Our counseil was nat longe for to seche ; ^ 
Us thoughte it was noght worth to make it 

wys,4 
And graunted him withouten more avys, 
And bad him seye his verdit, as him leste. 

* Lordinges,' quod he, ' now herkneth for 

the beste; 
But tak it not, I prey yow, in desdeyn; 
This is the po^nt, to speken short and 

pleyn, 790 

That ech of yow, to shorte with your weye. 
In this viage, shal telle tales tweye, 
To Caunterbury-ward, I mene it so, 
And hom-ward he shal tellen otbere two,^ 
Of aventiires that whylom ban bifalle. 
And which of yow that bereth him best of 

alle. 
That is to seyn, that telleth in this cas 
Tales of best sentence and most solas,^ 
Shal have a soper at our aller cost ^ 
Here in this place, sitting by this post, 800 
Whan that we come agayn fro Caunter- 

bury. 
And for to make yow the more mery, 
I wol my-selven gladly with yow ryde. 
Right at myn Owne cost, and be your gyde. 
And who-so wol my jngement withseye 
Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye. 
And if ye vonche-sauf that it be so, 
Tel me anon, with-outen wordes mo,^ 
And I wol erly shape ^ me therfore.' 

This thing was graunted, and our othes 

swore 810 

With fnl glad herte, and preyden him also 
That he wold vouche-sauf for to do so. 
And that he wolde been our governour, 
And of our tales juge and reportour, 
Andsette a soper at a certeyn prys; 
And we wold reuled been at his devys, 

1 before. 2 Genitive — A.S. faeder. 

8 we were soon agreed. 

* it seemed to us not worth while to make a fuss. 
B Some would throw out these two lines. 

8 of the best sentiments, and the most entertaining. 
"> at the cost of all of us; our and aller are genitive 
plurals — A.S. ure eallra. 

8 more. — A.S. ma ; Shakespeare, moe. 

9 make my arrangements. 



In heigh and lowe ; ^° and thus, by oon as- 
sent. 
We been acorded to his jugement. 
And ther-up-on the wyn was fet ^^ anon ; 
We dronken, and to reste wente echon, 820 
With-outen any lenger taryinge. 

A-morwe, whan that day bigan to springe, 
Up roos our host, and was our aller cok,^"^ 
And gadrede us togidre, alle in a flok, 
And forth we riden, a litel more than 

pas,i3 
Un-to the watering of seint Thomas. ^^ 
And there our host bigan his hors areste, 
And seyde ;* Lordinges, herkneth, if yow 

leste. 
Ye woot your forward,!^ and I it yow re- 

corde. 
If even-song and morwe-song acorde,!^ 830 
Lat see now who shal telle the firste tale. 
As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale, 
Who-so be rebel to my jugement 
Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent. 
Now draweth cut,^'^ er that we ferrer 

twinne;'^ 
He which that hath the shortest shal bi- 

ginne. 
Sire knight,' quod he, * my maister and my 

lord, 
Now draweth ^^ cut, for that is myn acord. 
Cometh 19 neer,' quod he, * my lady prior- 

esse; 
And ye, sir clerk, lat be your shamfast- 

nesse, 840 

Ne studieth^^ noght; ley hond to, every 

man.' 
Anon to drawen every wight bigan. 
And shortly for to tellen, as it was, 
Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas,20 
The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knight, 
Of which ful blythe and glad was every 

wight; 
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun. 
By forward and by composicioun,-i 
As ye ban herd; what nedeth wordes rao? 
And whan this gode man saugh it was so, 850 
As he that wys was and obedient 
To kepe his forward by his free assent, 
He seyde: ' Sin I shal beginne the game. 
What, welcome be the cut, a Goddes name! 

10 wholly. 11 fetched. 12 the cock who waked 
us all. 13 faster than a walk. h a watering-place 
for horses two miles out. is agreement. 

16 If you sing the same tune now that you did last 
night. 

17 lots. 18 draw farther from town. is Polite 
imperative plurals. 20 by hap, or fate, or chance. 

21 promise and agreement. 



io6 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Now lat us ryde, and heikneth what I seye.' 
And with that word we riden forth our 
weye; _ ^ 856 

And he bigan with right a mery chere 
His tale anon, and seyde in this manere. 



THE KNIGHT^S TALE 

Jamque domos patrias, Scithice fost aspera geniis 
Prelia^ laurigero, etc. [Statius, Theb. Xil, 5i9.]i 

Whylom, as olde stories tellen us, 
Ther was a duk that highte Theseus; 
Of Atheues he was lord and governour, 
And in his tyme swieh a conquerour 
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne. 
Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne; 
What with his wisdom and his chivalrye, 
He conquered al the regne ^ of Femenye, 
That whyh:)m was y-cleped Scithia; 
And weddede the queue Ipolita, 10 

And broghte hir boom with him in his eon- 
tree 
With muchel glorie and greet solempnitee, 
And eek hir yonge suster Emelye. 
And thus with victorie and with melodye 
Lete I this noble duk to Athenes ryde, 
And al his boost in armes him bisyde. 

And certes, if it nere to long to here, 
I wolde ban told yow fully the manere 
How wonnen was the regne of Femenye 
By Theseus, and by his chivalrye; 20 

And of the grete bataille for the nones ^ 
Bitwixen Athenes and Amazones; 
And how asseged was Ipolita, 
The faire, haidy queue of Scithia; 
And of the feste that was at bis weddinge, 
And of the tempest at his hoom-cominge ; 
But al that thing I moof* as now forbere. 
I have, God woot, a large field to ere,^ 
And wayke been the oxen in my plougb. 
The remenant of the tale is long y-nough. 30 
I wol nat letten^ eek noon of this route; 
Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute, 
And lat see now who sbal the soper winne; 
And ther I lefte, I wol ageyn biginne. 

This duk, of whom I make mencioun. 
When he was come almost unto the toun, 
In al his wele " and in his moste pryde, 
He was war, as be caste his eye asyde, 

1 The KnighVs Tale is a free adaptation of Boccac- 
cio's Teseide, a much longer poem. Both are based 
after a fashion on the Thebaiad of the late Roman poet, 
Statius. 

s realm. ' for the nonce — a colorless phrase. 

< must. 5 plough. 6 hinder. 1 weal, well-being. 



Wher that ther kneled in the hye weye 
A companye of ladies, tweye and tweye, 40 
Ech after other, clad in clothes blake; 
But swich a cry and swieh a wo they 

make, 
That in this world nis creature livinge 
That herde swich another weymentinge; ^ 
And of this cry they nolde never stenten,^ 
Til they the reynes of his brydel henten.^'' 
' What folk ben ye, that at myn hoom- 
cominge 
Perturben so my feste with cryinge ? ' 
Quod Theseus. * Have ye so greet envye 
Of myn honour, that thus compleyne and 

crye ? _ 50 

Or who hath yow misboden,ii or offended ? 
And telle th me if it may been amended; 
And why that ye ben clothed thus in 

blak ? ' 
The eldest lady of hem alle spak. 
When she hadde swowned with a deedly 

chere. 
That it was routhe for to seen and here. 
And seyde : ' Lord, to whom Fortune hath 

yiven 
Victorie, and as a conquerour to liven, 
Noght greveth us your glorie and your 

honour; 
But we biseken mercy and socour. 60 

Have mercy on our wo and our distresse. 
Som drope of pitee, tburgh thy gentilesse, 
Up-on us wreccbed wommen lat thou falle. 
For certes, lord, ther nis noon of us alle 
That she nath been a ducbesse or a queue; 
Now be we caitifs, as it is wel sene: 
Thanked be Fortune, and hir false wheel, 
That noon estat assureth to be weel. 
And certes, lord, t'abyden your presence, 
Here in the temple of the goddesse Cle- 

mence 70 

We han ben waytiuge al this fourtenight; 
Now help us, lord, sith it is in thy might. 
I wrecche, which that wepe and waille 

thus. 
Was whylom wyf to king Capaneus, 
That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day ! 
And alle we, that been in this array, 
And maken al this lamentacioun. 
We losten alle our housbondes at that 

toun, 
Whyl that the sege ther-aboute lay. 
And yet now th'olde Creon, weylaway ! 80 
The lord is now of Thebes the citee, 
Fulfild of ire and of iuiquitee, 
8 lament. ' Btint, stop. i" seized. " injured. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



107 



He, for despyt, and for his tirannye, 
To do the dede bodyes vileinye, 
Of alle our lordes, whiche that ben slawe,^ 
Hath all the bodyes on an heap y-drawe, 
And wol nat suft'ren hem, by noon assent, 
Neither to been y-buried nor y-brent,^ 
But maketh houndes ete hem in despyt.' 
And with that word, with-outen more 

respyt, 90 

They fillen gruf,^ and cryden piteously, 
* Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy, 
And lat our sorwe sinken in thyn herte.' 
This gentil duk doun from his courser 

sterte 
With herte pitous, whan he herde hem 

speke. 
Him thoughte that his herte wolde breke, 
Whan he saugh hem so pitous and so mat,^ 
That whylom weren of so greet estat. 
And in his armes he hem alle up hente, 
And hem conf orteth in f ul good entente ; 100 
And swoor his 00th, as he was trewe 

knight, 
He wolde doon so ferforthly his might 
Up-on the tyraunt Creon hem to wreke. 
That al the peple of Grece sholde speke 
How Creon was of Theseus y-served, 
As he that hadde his deeth ful wel de- 
served. 
And right anoon, with-outen more abood, 
His baner he desplayeth, and forth rood 
To Thebes- ward, and al his host bisyde; 
No neer Athenes wolde he go ne ryde, no 
Ne take his ese fully half a day, 
But onward on his wey tliat night he lay; 
And sente anoon Ipolita the quene, 
And Emelye hir yonge suster shene,^ 
Un-to the toun of Athenes to dwell; 
And forth he rit,^ ther nis namore to telle. 
The rede statue of Mars, with spere and 

targe, 
So shyneth in his whyte baner large, 
That alle the feeldes gliteren up and doun; 
And by his baner born is his penoun "^ 120 
Of gold ful riche, in which ther was y- 

bete ^ 
The Minotaur, which that he slough in 

Crete. 
Thus rit this duk, thus rit this conquerour, 
And in his host of chivalrye the flour. 
Til that he cam to Thebes, and aliglite 
Faire in a feeld, ther as he thoghte fighte. 

1 slain. 2 burned. » grovelinpr, prone. * over- 
come. 5 fair. 6 rideth. ' The pennon is triangular 
or swallow-tailed, the banner square. » embroidered. 



But shortly for to speken of this thing. 
With Creon, which that was of Thebes 

king. 
He faught, and slough him manly as a 

knight 
In pleyu bataille, and putte the folk to 

flight; 130 

And by assaut he wan the citee after. 
And rente adouu bothe wal, and sparre, and 

rafter ; 
And to the ladyes he restoreth agayn 
The bones of hir housbondes that were 

slayn. 
To doon obsequies as was tho the gyse. 
But it were al to long for to devyse 
The grete clamour and the waymentinge 
That the ladyes made at the brenninge 
Of the bodyes, and the grete honour 
That Theseus, the noble conquerour, 140 
Doth to the ladyes, whan they from him 

wente ; 
But shortly for to telle is myn entente. 
Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, 
Hath Creon slayn, and woune Thebes thus, 
Stille in that feelde he took al night his 

reste, 
And dide with al the eontree as him leste.^ 

To ransake in the tas^*^ of bodyes dede. 
Hem for to strepe of barneys and of 

wede. 
The pilours ^^ diden bisinesse and cure,^ 
After the bataille and disconfiture. 150 

And so bifel, that in the tas they founde, 
Thurgh-girt 1^ with many a grevous blody 

wounde, 
Two yonge knightes liggmg by and by,i^ 
Bothe in oon armes,^^ wioght ful richely, 
Of whiche two, Arcita hight that oon, 
And that other knight hight Palamon. 
Nat fully quike, ne fidly dede they were, 
But by hir cote-armures, and by hir gere, 
The heraudes knewe hem best in special. 
As they that weren of the blood royal 160 
Of Thebes, and of sustren two y-born. 
Out of the tas the pilours han hem torn. 
And han hem caried softe un-to the tente 
Of Theseus, and he fid son hem sente 
To Athenes, to dwellen in prisoun 
Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun. 
And whan this worthy duk hath thus y- 

don, 
He took his host, and hoom he rood anon 

» list, pleased (impersonal). 10 heap, n pillagers. 
12 care. i^ pierced. i* lying close together. 

15 bearing the same coat-of-arms. 



io8 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



With laurer crowned as a conquerour; 
And there he liveth, m joye and in hon- 

onr, 170 

Terme of l)is lyf ; what nedeth wordes mo? 
And in a tonr, in angwish and in wo, 
Dwellen this Palamoun and eek Arcite, 
For evermore, ther may no gold hem quyte. 
This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by 

day, 
Til it fil ones, in a morwe of May, 
That Emelye, that fairer was to sene 
Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, 
And fressher than the May with floures 

newe — 
For with the rose colour stroof hir he we, 180 
I noot ^ which was the fairer of hem two — 
Er it were day, as was hir wone ^ to do, 
She was arisen, and al redy dight; 
For May wol have no slogardye a-night. 
The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, 
And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte. 
And seith, * Arys, and do thyn observ- 

aunce.' 
This maked Emelye have remembraunce 
To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. 
Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devyse; 190 
Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, 
Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. 
And in the gardin, at the sonne up-riste,^ 
She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste 
She gadereth fioures, party whyte and rede, 
To make a sotil gerland for hir hede. 
And as an aungel hevenly she song. 
The grete tour, that was so thikke and 

strong. 
Which of the castel was the chief don- 

geoun, 
(Ther-as the knightes weren in prisoun, 200 
Of whiche I tolde yow, and tellen shal) 
Was evene joynant to the gardin-wal 
Ther as this Emelye hadde hir pleyinge. 
Bright was the sonne, and cleer that mor- 

weninge. 
And Palamon, this woful prisoner. 
As was his wone, by leve of his gayler, 
Was risen, and romed in a chambre on 

heigh. 
In which he al the noble citee seigh,^ 
And eek the gardin, f ul of braunches grene, 
Ther-as this fresshe Emelye the shene 210 
Was in hir walk, and romed up and doun. 
This sorweful prisoner, this Palamoun, 
Goth in the chambre, roming to and fro. 
And to him-self compleyning of his wo; 
1 know not. 2 wont. 3 uprising. < saw. 



That he was born, f ul of te he seyde, * alas ! ' 

And so bifel, by aventure or cas, 

That thurgh a window, thikke of many a 

barre 
Of yren greet, and square as any sparre, 
He caste his eye upon Einelya, 
And ther-with-al he bleynte,^ and cryde 

As though he stongen were un-to the herte. 
And with that cry Arcite anon up-sterte. 
And seyde, ' Cosin myn, what eyleth thee. 
That art so pale and deedly on to see ? 
Why crydestow ? Who hath thee doon 

offence ? 
For Goddes love, tak al in pacience 
Our prisoun, for it may non other be; 
Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee. 
Some wikke aspect or disposicioun 
Of Saturne, by sum constellacioun, 230 

Hath yeven us this, al-though we hadde it 

sworn ; ^ 
So stood the heven whan that we were born ; 
We moste endure it: this is the sliort and 

pleyn.' 
This Palamon answerde, and seyde ageyn, 
' Cosyn, for sothe, of this opinioun 
Thou hast a veyn imaginacioun. 
This prison caused me nat for to crye. 
But I was hurt right now thurgh-out myn 

ye 

In-to myn herte, that wol my bane be. 
The fairnesse of that lady that I see 240 
Yond in the gardin romen to and fro, 
Is cause of al my crying and my wo. 
I noot wher'^ she be womman or goddesse; 
But Venus is it, soothly, as I gesse.' 
And ther-with-al on knees doun he fil. 
And seyde: ' Venus, if it be thy wil 
Yow in this gardin thus to transfigure 
Bifore me, sorweful wrecche creature, 
Out of this prisoun help that we may 

scapen. 
And if so be my destinee be shapen 250 | 
By eterne word to dyen in prisoun. 
Of our linage have som compassioun, 
That is so lowe y-broght by tirannye.' 
And with that word Arcite gan espye 
Wher-as this lady romed to and fro. 
And with that sighte hir beautee hurts 

him so, 
That, if that Palamon was wounded sore, 
Arcite is hurte as muche as he, or more. 
And with a sigh he seyde pitously: 
' The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly 260 



5 blenched. 



6 sworn the contrary. "> whether. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



109 



Of hir that rometh in the yonder place ; 
And, but I have hir mercy and hir grace, 
That I may seen hir atte leeste weye, 
I nam but deed; ther nis namore to seye.' 

This Palamon, whan he tho wordes herde, 
DispitoLisly ^ he loked, and ansvverde: 

* Wliether seistow this in ernest or in 

pley ? ' 
' Nay,' quod Arcite, ' in ernest, by my 

fey! 
God help me so, me list ful yvele pleye.' 
This Falamon gan knitte his browes 

tweye: 270 

* It nere,' quod he, ' to thee no greet hon- 

our 
For to be fals, ae for to be traytour 
To me, that am thy cosin and thy brother ^ 
Y-sworn ful depe, and ech of us til other, 
That never, for to dyen in the peyne,^ 
Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne, 
.Neither of us in love to hindren other, 
Ne in non other cas, my leve "* brother; 
But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me 
In every cas, and I shal forthren thee. 280 
This was thyn 00th, and myn also, certeyn; 
I wot right wel, thou darst it nat withseyn. 
Thus artow of my counseil, out of doute. 
And now thou woldest falsly been aboute 
To love my lady, whom I love and serve. 
And ever shal, til that myn herte sterve.^ 
Now certes, fals Arcite, thou shalt nat so. 
I loved hir first, and tolde thee my wo 
As to my counseil, and my brother sworn 
To forthre me, as I have told biforn. 290 
For which thou art y-bounden as a knight 
To helpen me, if it lay in thy might, 
Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seyn.' 
This Arcite ful proudly spak ageyn, 

* Thou shalt,' quod he, * be rather fals 

than I; 
But thou art fals, I telle thee utterly; 



For par 



I loved hir first er thow. 



What wiltow seyn? Thou wistest nat yet 

now 
Whether she be a womman or goddesse ! 
Thyn is affeccioun of holinesse, 300 

And myn is love, as to a creature; 
For which I tolde thee myn aventure 
As to my cosin, and my brother sworn. 
I pose,*^ that thou lovedest hir biforn; 
Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe, 
That " who shal yeve a lover any la we ? " 

1 Savagely. 2 sworn brother in arms. ^ though 
we should die by torture. < dear, lief, b die. « in 
the way of a lover. ? put the case. 



Love is a greter lawe, by my pan,^ 
Than may be yeve to any erthly man. 
And therefore positif lawe and swich decree 
Is broke al-day for love, in ech degree. 310 
A man moot nedes love, maugree ^ his heed. 
He may nat fleen it, thogh he sholde be 

deed, 
Al be she mayde, or widwe, or elles wyf . 
And eek it is nat lykly, al thy lyf, 
To stonden in hir grace; namore shal I; 
For wel thou woost thy-selven, verraily, 
That thou and I be dampned to prisoun 
Perpetuelly; us gayneth^^ no raunsoun. 
We stryve as dide tbe houndes for the boon, 
They foughte al day, and yet hir part was 

noon; 320 

Ther cam a kyte, whyl that they were 

wrothe. 
And bar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe. 
And therefore, at the kinges court, my 

brother, 
Ech man for him-self, ther is non other. 
Love if thee list; for I love and ay shal; 
And soothly, leve brother, this is al. 
Here in this prisoun mote we endure. 
And everich of us take his aventure.' 
Greet was the stryf and long bitwixe hem 

tweye. 
If that I hadde leyser for to seye; 330 

But to th'efPect. It happed on a day, 
(To telle it yow as shortly as I may) 
A worthy duk that highte Perotheus, 
That felawe was un-to duk Theseus 
Sin thilke day that they were children 

lyte,ii 
Was come to Athenes, his felawe to visyte, 
And for to pleye, as he was wont to do. 
For in this world he loved no man so: 
And he loved him as tendrely ageyn. 
So wel they loved, as olde bokes seyn, 340 
That whan that oon was deed, sothly to 

telle, 
His felawe wente and soghte him doun in 

helle ; 
But of that story list me nat to wryte. 
Duk Perotheus loved wel Arcite, 
And hadde him knowe at Thebes yeer by 

yere; 
And fynally, at requeste and prey ere 
Of Perotheus, with-onte any raunsoun, 
Duk Theseus him leet out of prisoun. 
Freely to goon, wher that him liste over-al. 
In swich a gyse, as I you tellen shal. 350 



8 skull, head. 
10 profits. 



9 maugre, in spite of. 
" little. 



no 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



This was the forward, pleynly for t'en- 

dyte, 
Bitwixen Thesens and him Arcite: 
That if so were that Arcite were y-founde 
Ever in his lyf, by day or night or stounde ^ 
In any contree of this Theseus, 
And he were caught, it was acorded thus, 
Tiiat with a swerd he sholde lese his heed; 
Ther nas non other remedy e ne reed,^ 
But taketh his leve, and homward he him 

spedde ; 
Let him be war, his nekke lyth to wedde! ^ 
How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite ! 
The deeth he feleth thurgh his herte 

smyte ; 362 

He wepeth, wayleth, cryeth pitonsly; 
To sleen him-self he wayteth prively. 
He seyde, ' Alias that day that I was born! 
Now is my prison worse than biforn; 
Now is me shape eternally to dwelle 
Noght in purgatorie, but in helle, 
Alias! that ever knew I Perotheus! 
For elles hadde I dwelled with Theseus 370 
Y-fetered in his prisoun ever-mo. 
Than hadde I been in blisse, and nat in wo. 
Only the sighte of hir, whom that I serve, 
Though that I never hir grace may deserve, 
Wolde han suffised right y-nough for me. 
O dere cosin Palamon,' quod he, 
' Thyn is the victorie of this aventure, 
Ful blisfuUy in prison maistow dure; * 
In prison? Certes nay, but in paradys! 
Wei hath fortune y-turned thee the dys,^ 
That hast the sighte of hir, and 1 th'ab- 

sence, 381 

For possible is, sin thou hast hir presence, 
And art a knight, a worthy and an able, 
That by som cas, sin fortune is chaunge- 

able, 
Thoumayst to thy desyr som-tyme atteyne. 
But I, that am exyled, and bareyne 
Of alle grace, and in so greet despeir. 
That ther nis erthe, water, fyr, ne eir, 
Ne creature, that of hem maked is, 
That may me helpe or do on confort in 

this: 390 

Wei oughte I sterve in wanhope ^ and dis- 

tresse; 
Farwel my lyf, my lust, and my gladnesse! 

Alias, why pleynen folk so in commune 
Of purveyaunce of God, or of fortune. 
That yeveth hem ful ofte in many a gyse 
Wei bettre than they can hem-self devyse ? 



1 hour. 2 help. 

* mayest thou endure. 



dice. 



8 in pledge. 
6 despair. 



Som man desyreth for to han riehesse, 
That cause is of his mordre '' or greet sik- 

nesse. 
And som man wolde out of his prison fayn, 
That in his hous is of his meynee ^ slayn. 
Infinite harmes been in this matere; 401 
We witen nat what thing we preyen here. 
We faren as he that dronke is as a mous; 
A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous. 
But he noot which the righte vvey is thider; 
And to a dronke man the wey is slider.^ 
And certes, in this world so faren we; 
We seken faste after felicitee, 
But we goon wrong full often, trewely. 
Thus may we seyeu alle, and namely ^^ I 410 
That wende ^^ and hadde a greet opinioun, 
That, if I mighte escapen from prisoun, 
Than hadde I been in joye and perfit 

hele,i2 
Ther now I am exyled fro my wele. 
Sin that I may nat seen yow, Emelye, 

I nam but deed; ther nis no remedye.* 

Up-on that other syde Palamon, 
Whan that he wiste Arcite was agon, 
Swich sorwe he maketh, that the grete 

tour 
Resouneth of his youling and clamour. 420 
The pure ^^ fettres on his shines grete 
Weren of his bittre salte teres wete. 
* Alias! ' quod he, ' Arcita, cosin myn, 
Of al our stryf, God woot, the fruyt is 

thyn. 
Thow walkest now in Thebes at thy large, 
And of my wo thou yevest litel charge. 
Thou mayst, sin thou hast wisdom and 

manhede, 
Assemblen alle the folk of our kinrede, 
And make a werre so sharp on this citee, 
That by some aventure, or some tretee, 430 
Thou mayst have hir to lady and to wyf, 
For whom that I mot nedes lese 1* my lyf. 
For, as by wey of possibilitee, 
Sith thou art at thy large, of prison free, 
And art a lord, greet is thyn avauntage, 
More than is myn, that sterve here in a 

cage. 
For 1 mot wepe and wayle, whyl I live. 
With al the wo that prison may me yive, 
And eek with peyne that love me yiveth 

also. 
That doubleth al my torment and my 

wo.' 440 

T murder. » servants. » slippery. 10 especially. 

II weened, thought. 12 health. i» very. 1* 
needs lose. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



III 



Ther-with the fyr of jelousye up-sterte 
With-iime his brest, and hente him by the 

herte 
So woodly,^ that he lyk was to biholde 
The box-tree, or the asshen dede and colde. 
The seyde he; 'O cruel goddes, that gov- 
erne 
j This world with binding of your word eterne, 
I And wry ten in the table of athamaunt ^ 

Your parlement,^ and your eterne graunt, 
I What is mankinde more uu-to yow holde 
j Than is the sheep, that rouketh^ in tlie 
! folde. 450 

I For slayn is man right as another beste, 
i And dwelleth eek in prison and areste, 
^ And hath siknesser, and greet adversitee, 
I And ofte tymes giltelees, pardee! 
{ What governaunce is in this prescience, 
That giltelees tormenteth innocence ? 
And yet encreseth this al my penaunce, 
That man is bounden to his observauuce, 
For Goddes sake, to letten of his wille, 
j Ther as a beest may al his lust fulfille. '460 
And whan a beest is deed, he hath no peyne; 
i But man after his deeth moot wepe and 
I pleyne, 

I Though in this world he have care and wo: 
With-outen doute it may stonden so, 
Th' answere of this I lete to divynis,^ 
But wel I woot, that in this world gret 

pyne is. 
Alias! I see a serpent or a theef, 
That many a trewe man hath doon mes- 

cheef. 
Goon at his large, and wher him list may 
turne. 469 

But I mot been in prison thurgh Saturne, 
And eek thurgh Juno, jalous and eek wood. 
That hath destroyed wel ny al the blood 
Of Thebes, with his waste walles wyde. 
And Venus sleeth me on that other syde 
For jelousye, and fere of him Arcite.' 
Now wol I stinte of Palamon a lyte. 
And lete him in his prison stilie dwelle, 
And of Arcita forth I wol yow telle. 

The somer passeth, and the nightes longe 
Encresen double wyse the peynes stronge 
Bothe of the lovere and the prisoner. 481 
I noot which hath the wofullere mester.^ 
For shortly for to seyn, this Palamoun 
Perpetuelly is dampned to prisoun. 
In cheynes and in fettres to ben deed; 
And Arcite is exyled upon his heed 

1 madly. » adamant. s decree. * huddles. 
B diTiues. 6 the more woful occupation, life. 



For ever-mo as out of that contree, 
Ne never-mo he sbal his lady see. 

Yow loveres axe I now this questioun. 
Who hath the worse, Arcite or Pala- 
moun ? 490 
That oon may seen his lady day by day. 
But in prison he moot dwelle alway. 
That other wher him list may ryde or go, 
But seen his lady shal he never-mo. 
Now demeth as yow liste, ye that can, 
For I wol telle forth as I bigan. 

Explicit prima Pars. 
Seguitur pars secunda. 

Whan that Arcite to Thebes comen was, 
Fill ofte a day he swelte '^ and seyde ' alias,' 
For seen his lady shal he never-mo. 
And shortly to concluden al his wo, 500 

So muche sorwe had never creature 
That is, or shal, whyl that the world may 

dure. 
His sleep, his mete, his drink is him biraft, 
That lene he wex, and drye as is a shaft. 
His eyen hoi we, and grisly to biholde; 
His hewe falwe, and pale as asshen colde, 
And solitarie he was, and ever allone. 
And wailling al the niglit, making his mone. 
And if he herde song or instrument. 
Then wolde he wepe, he mighte nat be 

stent; 510 

So feeble eek were his spirits, and so lowe. 
And chaunged so, that no man coude knowe 
His speche nor his vois, though men it 

herde. 
And in his gere,^ for al the world he ferde 
Nat oonly lyk the loveres maladye 
Of Hereos,^ but rather lyk manye ^^ 
Engendred of humour malencolyk, 
Biforen, in his celle fantastyk.^i 
And shortly, turned was al up-so-doun 
Bothe habit and eek disposicioun 520 

Of him, this woful lovere daun ^^ Arcite. 

What sholde I al-day of his wo endyte ? 
Whan he endured hadde a yeer or two 
This cruel torment, and this peyne and wo, 
At Thebes, in his contree, as I seyde, 
Up-on a night, in sleep as he him leyde, 
Him thoughte how that the winged god 

Mercuric 
Biforn him stood, and bad him to be murye. 

7 swooned. 8 behavior. 

» A specific disease of lovers and such. See Modem 
Philology, xi, 491. lo mania. 

11 An allusion to the mediaeval notion of humors and 
a triple division of the brain. Cf. Macbeth, i, 7, 65. 

12 sir, dominus. 



112 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



His slepy yerde^ in bond he bar upiighte; 
An hat ho werede up-on his heres brighte. 
Arrayed was this god (as he took keepe ^) 531 
As he was whan that Argus took his sleep; 
And seyde him thus: 'To Atbenes shaltou 

wende ; 
Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende.' * 
And with that word Arcite wook and sterte. 
' Now trewely, how sore that me smerte,' 
Quod he, 'to Athenes right now wol I fare; 
Ne for the drede of deeth shal I nat spare 
To see my lady, that I love and serve ; 
In hir presence I recche nat to sterve.' 540 
And with that word he caughte a greet 
mironr. 
And saugh that chaunged was al his colour, 
And saugh his visage al in another kinde. 
And right anoon it ran him in his minde, 
That, sith his face was so disfigured 
Of maladye, the which he hadde endured. 
He mighte wel, if that be bar him lowe,^ 
Live in Athenes ever-more unknowe. 
And seen his lady wel ny day by day. 
And right anon he chaunged his array, 550 
And cladde him as a povre laborer. 
And al alloue, save oonly a squyer, 
That knew his privetee and al his cas. 
Which was disgysed povrely, as he was, 
To Athenes is he goon the nexte ^ way. 
And to the court he wente up-on a day, 
And at the gate he profreth his servyse, 
To drugged and drawe, what so men wol 

devyse. 
And shortly of this matere for to seyn, 
He fil in office ^ with a chamberleyn, 560 
The which that dwelling was with Emelye; 
For he was wys, and coude soon aspye 
Of every servaunt, which that serveth 

here. 
Wel coude he hewen wode, and water here. 
For he was yong and mighty for the nones. 
And ther-to he was strong and big of bones 
To doon that any wight can him devyse. 
A yeer or two he was in this servyse, 
Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte ; 
And ' Philostrate ' he seide that he highte. 
But half so wel biloved a man as he 571 
Ne was ther never in court, of his degree; 
He was so gentil of condicioun. 
That thurghout al the court was his re- 
noun. 
They seyden, that it were a charitee 
That Theseus wolde enhauncen his degree, 

1 sleep-causing rod. 2 heed, s lived in obscurity. 
4 shortest. s drudge. « took service. 



And putten him in worshipful servyse, 
Ther as he mighte his vertu excercyse. 
And thus, with-inne a whyle, his name is 

spronge 579 

Bothe of his dedes, and his goode tonge, 
That Theseus hath taken him so neer 
That of his chambre he made him a squyer, 
And yaf him gold to mayntene his degree; 
And eek men broghte him out of his 

contree 
From yeer to yeer, ful prively, his rente; 
But honestly ana slyly he it spente. 
That no man wondred how that he it hadde. 
And three yeer in this wyse his lyf he 

ladde. 
And bar him so in pees and eek in werre, 
Ther nas no man that Theseus hath derre."' 
And in this blisse lete I now Arcite, 591 
And speke I wol of Palamon a lyte. 

In derknesse and horrible and strong 

prisoun 
This seven yeer hath seten Palamoun, 
Forpyned,^ what for wo and for distresse; 
Who f eleth double soor ^ and hevinesse 
But Palamon ? that love destreyneth ^^ so. 
That wood out of his wit he gooth for wo; 
And eek tlierto he is a prisoner 
Perpetuelly, noght oonly for a yeer. 600 
Who coude ryme in English proprely 
His martirdom ? For sotlie, it am nat I; 
Therefore I passe as lightly as I may. 

It fel that in the seventhe yeer, in May, 
The thridde night, (as olde bokes seyn 
That al this storie tellen more pleyn,) 
Were it by aventure or destinee, 
(As, whan a thing is shapen, it shal be,) 
That, sone after the midnight, Palamoun, 
By helping of a f reend, brak his prisoun, 610 
And fleeth the citee, faste as he may go; 
For he had yive his gajler drinke so 
Of a claree,^^ maad of a Certeyn wyn. 
With nercotikes and opie ^^ of Thebes fyn, 
That al that night, thogh that men wolde 

him shake. 
The gayler sleep, he mighte nat awake ; 
And thus he fleeth as faste as ever he may. 
The night was short, and faste by the day. 
That nedes-cost^^ he moste him-selven hyde, 
And til a grove, faste ther besyde, 620 

With dredful foot than stalketh Palamoun. 
For shortly, this was his opinioun. 
That in that grove he wolde him hyde al day, 
And in the night than wolde he take his way 

7 dearer, s Greatly tormented. 9 sorrow. 10 per- 
secutes. 11 spiced wine. 12 opium. i3 necessarily. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



"3 



To Thebes-ward, his freendes for to preye 
On Theseus to helpe him to werreye; ^ 
And shortly, outher he wolde lese his lyf, 
Or winneu Emelye un-to his wyf ; 
This is th'effect and his entente pleyn. 

Now wol I torne un-to Arcite ageyn, 630 
That lltel wiste how ny that was his care. 
Til that fortune had broght him in the 
snare. 

The bisy larke, messager of day, 
Salueth in liir song the morwe gray; 
And fyry Phebus ryseth up so brighte, 
That al the orient laugheth of the lighte, 
And with his stremes dryeth in the greves 
The silver dropes, hanging on the leves. 
And Arcite, that is in the court royal 
With Theseus, his squyer principal, 640 

Is risen, and loketh on the myrie day. 
And, for to doon his observaunce to May, 
Remembring on the poynt of his desyr, 
He on a courser, startlynge^ as the fyr, 
Is riden in-to the feeldes, him to pleye, 
Out of the court, were it a myle or tweye; 
And to the grove, of which that I yow tolde, 
By aventure, his wey he gan to holde, 
To maken him a gerland of the greves, 649 
Were it of wodebinde or hawethorn-leves, 
And loude he song ageyn the sonne shene: 
' May, with alle thy floures and thy grene, 
Wel-come be thou, faire fresshe May, 
I hope that I som grene gete may.' 
And from his courser, with a lusty herte, 
In-to the grove ful hastily he sterte. 
And in a path he rometh up and doun, 
Ther-as, by aventure, this Palamoun 
Was in a bush, that no man mighte him see, 
For sore afered of liis deeth was he. 660 

No-thing ne knew he that it was Arcite: 
God wot he wolde have trowed it ful lyte. 
But sooth is seyd, gon sithen many yeres, 
That * feeld hath eyen, and the wode hath 

eres.' 
It is ful fair a man to here him evene,^ 
For al-day meteth men at unset steveue.^ 
Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe. 
That was so ny to herknen al his sawe, 
For in the bush he sitteth now fnl stille. 

Whan that Arcite had romed al his fille, 
And songen al the roundel lustily, 671 

In-to a studie he fil sodeynly. 
As doon tliise lovers in hir queynte geres,^ 
Now in the croppe,^ now doun in the breres, 

1 make war. * skittish. Another reading is s^erfj^ngr. 
8 be circumspect, steadfast. * unexpectedly. 
, B changeful ways, turns. 6 top. 



Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle. 
Right as the Friday, soothly for to telle, 
Now it shyneth, now it reyneth faste, 
Right so can gery " Venus overcaste 
The hertes of hir folk; right as hir day ^ 
Is gerful,'^ right so chauugeth she array. 680 
Selde is the Friday al the wyke y-lyke. 
Whan that Arcite had souge, he gan to 

syke,_9 
And sette him doun with-outen any more: 
' Alas ! ' quod he, ' that day that I was bore ! 
How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee, 
Woltow werreyen Thebes the citee ? 
Alias ! y-broght is to confusiouu 
The blood royal of Cadme and Amphionn; 
Of Cadmus, which that was the firste 

man 689 

That Thebes bulte, or first the toun bigan, 
And of the citee first was crouned king. 
Of his linage am I, and his of-spring 
By verray ligne, as of the stok royal: 
And now I am so caitif and so thral. 
That he, that is my mortal enemy, 
I serve liim as his squyer povrely. 
And yet doth Juno me wel more shame, 
For I dar noght biknowe myn owne name; 
But ther-as I was wont to highte Arcite, 
Now highte I Philostrate, noght worth a 

myte. 700 

Alias ! thou felle Mars, alias ! Juno, 
Thus hath your ire our kinrede al fordo, 
Save only me, and wrecched Palamoim, 
That Theseus martyreth in prisoun. 
And over al this, to sleen me utterly. 
Love hath his fyry dart so brenningly 
Y-stiked thurgh my trewe careful herte, 
That shapeu was my deeth erst 1*^ than my 

sherte. 
Ye sleen me with your e3'en, Emelye; 
Ye been the cause wherfor that I dye. 710 
Of al the remenant of myn other care 
Ne sette I nat the mountaunce ^^ of a tare 
So that I coude don aught to your ple- 

sannce ! ' 
And with that word he fil doun in a traunce 
A longe tyme; and after he up-sterte. 
This Palamoun, that thoughte that thurgh 

his herte 
He felte a cold swerd sodeynliche glyde. 
For ire he quook,i^ no lenger wolde he 

byde. 
And whan that he had herd Arcites tale, 719 
As he were wood, with face deed and pale, 

7 changeable. 8 i.e. Friday. ' sigh. 10 ere, i.e. 
his death was foreordained. " amount. 12 quaked. 



114 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



He sterte him up out of the buskes thikke, 
And seyde: * Arcite, false traitour wikke/ 
Now aitow hent,^ that lovest my lady so, 
For whom that I have al this peyiie and wo, 
And art my blood, aud to my couuseil 

sworn, 
As I fill ofte have told thee heer-biforn, 
And hast by-japed ^ here diik Theseus, 
And falsly channged hast thy name thus; 
I wol be deed, or elles thou slialt dye. 
Thou shalt nat love my lady Emelye, 730 
But I wol love hir only, and namo; 
For I am Palamoun, thy mortal fo. 
And though that I no wepne have in this 

place. 
But out of prison am astert by grace, 
I drede noght that outher thou shalt dye, 
Or thou ne shalt nat loven Emelye. 
Chees which thou wilt, for thou shalt nat 

asterte.' 
This Arcite, with ful despitous herte, 
Whan he him knew, and hadde his tale 

herd. 
As fiers as leoun, pulled out a swerd, 740 
And seyde thus : ' By God that sit above, 

it th " 

love, 
And eek that thou no wepne hast in this 

place. 
Thou sholdest never out of this grove pace. 
That thou ne sholdest dyen of myn bond. 
For I defye the seurtee and the bond 
Which that thou seyst that I have maad to 

thee. 
What, verray fool, think wel that love is 

free. 
And I wol love hir, maugre al thy might ! 
But, for as muche thou art a worthy knight, 
And wilnest to darreyne ° hir by batayle, 751 
Have heer my trouthe, to-morwe I wol nat 

fayle, 
With-outen witing of any other wight, 
That here I wol be founden as a knight. 
And bringen barneys right y-nough for 

thee ; 
And chees the beste, and leva the worste 

for me. 
And mete and drinke this night wol I 

bringe 
Y-nough for thee, and clothes for thy bed- 

dinge. 
And, if so be that thou my lady winne, 
And slee me in this wode ther I am inne, 760 



1 wicked. 
* Were it not. 



2 caught. 3 fooled, 

c decide the right to. 



Thou mayst wel have thy lady, as for 

me.' 
This Palamon answerde : * I graunte it 

thee.' 
And thus they been departed til a-morwe. 
When ech of hem had leyd his feith to 

borwe.^ 
O Cupide, out of alle charitee ! 
O regne," that wolt no felawe have with 

thee I 
Ful sootli is seyd, that love ne lordshipe 
Wol noght, his thankes,^ have no felawe- 

shipe; 
Wel finden that Arcite and Palamoun. 
Arcite is riden anon un-to the toun, 770 

And on the morwe, er it were dayes light, 
Ful prively two barneys hath lie dight, 
Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne 
The bataille in the feeld bitvvix hem tweyne. 
And on his hors, allone as he was born. 
He carieth al this barneys him biforn; 
And in the grove, at tyme and place y-set, 
This Arcite and this Palamon ben met. 
Tho chaungen gan the colour in hir face ; 
Right as the hunter in the regne of Trace, 
That stondeth at the gappe with a spere, 781 
Whan hunted is the leoun or the here. 
And hereth him come russhiug in the 

greves, 
And breketh bothe bowes and the leves, 
Aud thinketh, *Heer cometh my mortel 

enemy, 
With-oute faile, he moot be deed, or I; 
For outher I mot sleen him at the gappe. 
Or he mot sleen me, if that me mishappe:' 
So ferden they, in chaunging of hir hewe, 
As fer as everich of hem other knewe. 790 
Ther nas no good day, ne no saluing;^ 
But streight, with-outen word or rehersing, 
Everich of hem halp^*^ for to armen other, 
As freendly as he were his owne brother; 
And after that, with sharpe speres stronge 
They foynen 11 ech at other wonder longe. 
Thou mightest wene that this Palamoun 
In his fighting were a wood leoun, 
And as a cruel tygre was Arcite: 
As wilde bores gonne they to smyte, 800 
That frothen whyte as foom for ire wood. 
Up to the ancle foghte they in hir blood. 
And in this wyse I lete hem fighting dwelle; 
And forth I wol of Theseus yow telle. 

The destinee, ministre general, 
That executeth in the world over-al 



6 pledged his faith. ^ rule. 
8 saluting. 10 helped. 



willingly. 
11 thrust. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



115 



The purveyamice, that God hath seyn bif orn, 

So strong it is, that, though the world had 

sworn 

ll The coutrarie of a thing, by ye or nay, 

! Yet sonityme it shal fallen on a day 810 

That falleth nat eft with-inne a thousand 

yere. 
For ceiteinly, our appetytes here, 
Be it of werre, or pees, or hate, or love, 
j Al is this reuled by the sighte above. 
! This mene I now by niighty Theseus, 
' That for to honten is so desirous, 

And nanoiely at the grete hert in May, 
That in his bed ther daweth him no day, 
That he nis elad« and redy for to ryde 
With hunte ^ and horn, and houndes him 
' bisyde. 820 

[ For in his hunting hath he swich delyt. 
That it is al his joye and appetyt 
To been him-self the grete hertes bane: 
For after Mars he serveth now Diane. 

Cleer was the day, as 1 have told er this. 
And Theseus, with alle joye and blis, 
With his Ipolita, the fayre quene. 
And Emelye, clothed al in grene. 
On hunting be they riden royally. 829 

And to the grove, that stood ful faste by. 
In which ther was an hert, as men him 

tolde, 
Duk Theseus the streighte wey hath holde. 
And to the launde ^ he rydeth him ful right. 
For thider was the hert wont have his flight. 
And over a brook, and so forth on his weye. 
This duk wol han a cours at him, or twe3'e, 
With houndes, swiche as that him list com- 
aunde. 
And whan this duk was come un-to the 
launde, 
Under the sonne he loketh, and anon 
He was war of Arcite and Palamon, 840 
That foughten breme,^ as it were bores 

two; 
The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro 
So hidously, that with the leeste strook 
It seemed as it wolde felle an 00k; 
But what they were, no-thing he ne woot. 
This duk his courser with his spores smoot. 
And at a stert he was bitwix hem two, 
And pulled out a swerd and cryed, ' Ho! 
Namore, up ^ peyne of lesing of your heed. 
By mighty Mars, he shal anon be deed 850 
That smyteth any strook that I may seen! 
But telleth me what mister ^ men ye been. 



1 huntsman. 
* upon. 



* glade. s furiously. 
6 manner of. 



That been so hardy for to tighten here 
With-outen juge or other ofhcere. 
As it were in a listes royally ? ' 

This Palamon answerede hastily 
And seyde: ' Sire, what nedeth wordes mo ? 
We have the deeth deserved bothe two. 
Two woful wrecches been we, two caytyves. 
That been encombred of our owne ly ves ; 860 
And as thou art a rightful lord and juge, 
Ne yeve us neither mercy ne refuge; 
But slee me first, for seynte charitee; 
But slee my felawe eek as wel as me. 
Or slee him first; for, though thou kuowe 

it lyte, 
This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, 
That fro thy lond is banished on his heed, 
For which he hath deserved to be deed. 
For this is he that cam un-to thy gate. 
And seyde, that he highte Philostrate. 870 
Thus hath he japed ^ thee full many a yeer. 
And thou has maked him thy chief squyer: 
And this is he that loveth Emelye. 
For sith the day is come that 1 shal dye, 
I make pleynly my confessioun, 
That I am thilke woful Palamoun, 
That hath thy prison broken wikkedly. 
I am thy mortal fo, and it am I 
That loveth so bote Emelye the brighte, 
That I wol dye present in hir sighte. 880 
Therfore I axe deeth and my juwyse;" 
But slee my felawe in the same wyse, 
For bothe han we deserved to be slayn.* 

This worthy duk answerde anon agajTi, 
And seyde, 'This is a short conclusioun: 
Youre owne mouth, by your confessioun. 
Hath dampned you, and I wol it recorde, 
It nedeth noght to pyne ^ yow with the 

corde. 
Ye shul be deed, by mighty Mars the 

rede ! ' 
The quene anon, for verray womman- 

hede, 890 

Gan for to wepe, and so dide Emelye, 
And alle the ladies in the companye. 
Gret pi tee was it, as it thoughte hem alle. 
That ever swich a chaunce sholde falle; 
For gentil men they were, of greet estat. 
And no-thing but for love was this debat; 
And sawe hir blody woundes wyde and 

sore; 
And alle cryden, bothe lasse and more, 
* Have mercy, lord, up-on us wommen 

alle ! ' 
And on hir bare knees adoun they falle, 900 
6 deceived. ^ judgment. s torture. 



ii6 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



And vvokle have kist bis feet ther-as he 

stood, 
Til at the hxste aslaked was his mood; 
For pi tee renneth sone in gentil herte. 
And though he first for ire quook and 

sterte, 
He hath considered shortly, in a clause, 
The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the 

cause : 
And al-though that his ire hir gilt accused. 
Yet in his reson he hem bothe excused; 
As thus: he thoghte wel, that every man 
Wolhelpe him-self in love, if that he can, 910 
And eek delivere him-self out of prisoun; 
And eek his herte had corapassioim 
Of v^^ommen, for they wepen ever in oon; 
And in his gentil herte he thoghte anoon. 
And softe mi-to himself he seyde : ' Fy 
Up-on a lord that wol have no mercy, 
But been a leoun, bothe m word and dede, 
To hem that been in repentaunce and drede 
As wel as to a proud despitous man 
That wol maynteyne that he first bigan! 920 
That lord hath litel of discrecioun, 
That in swich cas can no divisioun. 
But weyeth pryde and humblesse after 

oon.' 1 
And shortly, whan his ire is thus agoon, 
He gan to loken up with eyen lighte, 
And spak thise same wordes al on 

highte : — 
' The god of love, a ! henedicite, 
How mighty and how greet a lord is he ! 
Ayeins his might ther gayneth none ob- 
stacles, 
He may be cleped a god for his miracles; 930 
For he can maken at his owne gyse 
Of everich herte, as that him list devype. 
Lo heer, this Arcite and this Palamoun, 
That quitly ^ weren out of my prisoun. 
And mighte ban lived in Thebes royally, 
And witen I am hir mortal enemy. 
And that hir deeth lyth in my might also; 
And yet hath love, maugree hir eyen two, 
Y-broght hem hider bothe for to dye ! 
Now loketh, is nat that an heigh f olye ? 940 
Who may been a fool, but-if he love ? 
Bihold, for Goddes sake that sit above, 
Se how they blede ! be they noght wel 

arrayed ? 
Thus hath hir lord, the god of love, 

y-payed 
Hir wages and hir fees for hir servyse ! 
And yet they wenen for to been ful wyse 

1 Regards them equally. 2 entirely. 



That serven love, for aught that may 

bifalle ! 
But this is yet the beste game of alle. 
That she, for whom they han this jolitee. 
Can hem ther-foras muche thank as me; 950 
She woot namore of al this bote fare. 
By God, than woot a cokkow or an hare ! 
But al mot been assayed, hoot and cold ; 
A man mot been a fool, or yong or old; 
I woot it by my-self ful yore agoon: 
For in my tyme a servant ^ was I oon. 
And therfore, sin^ I knowe of loves peyne, 
And woot how sore it can a man distreyne. 
As he that hath ben caught ofte in his las,^ 
I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespas, 960 
At requeste of the queue that kneleth here, 
And eek of Emelye, my suster dere. 
And ye shul bothe anon uu-to me swere. 
That never-mo ye shul my contree dere,^ 
Ne make werre up-on me night ne day, 
But been my freendes in al that ye may; 
I yow foryeve this trespas every del.' 
And they him swore his axing fayre and 

wel, 
And him of lordshipe and of mercy preyde, 
And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he 

seyde : 970 

* To speke of royal linage and richesse, 
Though that she were a queue or a priu- 

cesse, 
Ech of yow bothe is worthy, doutelees, 
To wedden whan tyme is, but nathelees 
I speke as for my suster Emelye, 
For whom ye have this stryf and jelousye; 
Ye woot your-self, she may not wedden two 
At ones, though ye fighten ever-mo: 
That oon of yow, al be him looth or leef. 
He moot go pypen in an ivy-leef ; 980 

This is to seyn, she may nat now han bothe, 
Al be ye never so jelous, ne so wrothe. 
And for-thy I yow putte in this degree. 
That ech of yow shal have his destinee 
As him is shape; and herkneth in what 

wyse; 
Lo, heer your ende of that I shal devyse. 

My wil is this, for plat "^ conclusioun, 
With-outen any replicacioun, 
If that yow lyketh, tak it for the beste. 
That everich of yow shal gon wher him 

leste 990 

Frely, with-outen raunson or daunger; 
And this day fifty wykes, fer ne uer,^ 



3 i.e. of love. 



5 lace, net. 



« since. 
6 injure. '' certain. 

8 further nor nearer, more nor less, i.e. exactly^ 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



117 



Everich of yow shal briuge an hundred 

kniglites, 
Armed for listes up at alle rightes, 
Al redy to darreyne hir by bataille. 
And this bihote I yow, with-outen faille, 
Up-on my trouthe, and as I am a knight, 
That whether 1 of yow bothe that hath 

might, 
This is to seyn, that whether he or thou 
May with his hundred, as I spak of 

now, 1000 

Sleen his contrarie, or out of listes dryve, 
Him shal I yeve Emelya to wyve, 
To whom that ^fortune yeveth so fair a 

grace. 
The listes shal I maken in this place, 
And God so wisly on my soule rewe. 
As I shal even juge been and trewe. 
Ye shul non other ende with me maken. 
That oon of yow ne shal be deed or taken. 
And if yow thinketh this is wel y-sayd, 
Seyetli your avys, and holdeth yow apayd.^ 
This is your ende and your conclu- 

sioun.' loii 

Who loketh lightly now but Palamoun ? 
Who springeth up for joye but Arcite? 
Who couthe telle, or who couthe it endyte, 
The joye that is maked in the place 
Whan Theseus hath doon so fair a grace ? 
Butdoun on knees wente every maner wight, 
And thanked him with al her herte and 

might, 
And namely the Thebans ofte sythe.^ 
And thus with good hope and with herte 

blythe 1020 

They take hir leve, and hom-ward gonne 

they ryde 
To Thebes, with his olde walles wyde. 

Explicit secunda pars. 
Sequitur pars tercia. 

I trowe men wolde deme it necligence, 
If I foryete to tellen the dispence 
Of Theseus, that goth so bisily 
To maken up the listes royally; 
That swich a noble theatre as it was, 
I dar wel seyn that in this world ther nas. 
The circuit a myle was aboute, 1029 

Walled of stoon, and diched al with-oute. 
Round was the shap, in maner of compas, 
Ful of degrees,^ the heighte of sixty pas, 
That, whan a man was set on o degree, 
He letted ^ nat his f elawe for to see. 



1 which of the two. 
» times. 4 steps. 



2 satisfied. 
5 hindered. 



Est-ward ther stood a gate of marbel 
whyt. 
West-ward, right swich another in the op- 
posit. 
And shortly to concluden, swich a place 
Was noon in erthe, as in so litel space; 
For in the lond ther nas no crafty man. 
That geometric or ars-metrik ^ can, 1040 
Ne purtreyour, ne kerver of images, 
That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages 
The theatre for to maken and devyse. 
And for to doon his ryte and sacrifyse, 
He est-ward hath, up-on the gate above, 
In worship of Venus, goddesse of love, 
Don make " an auter and an oratorie; 
And west-ward, in the minde and in mem- 

orie 
Of Mars, he maked hath right swich an- 
other. 
That coste largely of gold a f other. ^ 1050 
And north-ward, in a tonret^ on the wal. 
Of alabastre whyt and reed coral 
An oratorie riche for to see, 
In worship of Dyane of chastitee, 
Hath Theseus don wroght in noble wyse. 

But yet hadde I foryeten 1*^ to devyse 
The noble kerving, and the portreitures. 
The shap, the countenaunce, and the figures, 
That weren in thise oratories three. 

First in the temple of Venus raaystow 
see 1060 

Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde. 
The broken slepes, and the sykes colde ; ^^ 
The sacred teres, and the waymenting;^ 
The fyry strokes of the desiring 
That loves servaunts in this lyf endnren; 
The othes, that hir covenants assuren; 
Plesaunce and Hope, Desyr, Fool-hardi- 

nesse, 
Beautee and Youthe, Bauderie,!^ Richesse, 
Charmes and Force, Lesinges,^^ Flaterye, 
Dispense, Bisynesse, and Jelousye, 1070 

That wered of yelwe goldes ^^ a gerland. 
And a cokkow sitting on hir hand; 
Festes, instruments, caroles, daunces. 
Lust and Array, and alle the circumstaunces 
Of love, whiche that I rekne and rekne shal. 
By ordre weren peynted on the wal, 
And mo ^^ than I can make of mencioun. 
For soothly, al the mount of Citherovm, 
Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellmg. 
Was shewed on the wal in portreying, 1080 
6 arithmetic. ^ caused to be made. s load. 

9 turret. i" Subjunctive, " I nearly forgot." 

11 cruel sighs. 12 lamentation. i3 lechery. 
14 lyings. 15 marigolds. is more. 



[8 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



With al the gardin, and the lustinesse. 

Nat was foiyeten the porter Ydelnesse, 

Ne Narcisiis the faire of yore agon, 

Ne yet the folye of king Salamun, 

Ne yet the grete strengths of Hercules — 

Tli'enehauutements of Medea and Circes — 

Ne of Turnus, with tlie liardy tiers corage, 

The riche Cresus, caytif in servage. 

Thus may ye seen that wisdom ne richesse, 

Beautee ne sleighte, strengthe, ne hardi- 

nesse, 1090 

Ne may with Yenus holde ehampartye; ^ 
For as hir list the world than may she gye. 
Lo, alle thise folk so caught were in hir 

las, 
Til they for wo ful ofte seyde Dallas! ' 
Siiffyceth hear ensamples oon or two, 
And though I coude rekne a thousand mo. 
The statue of Yenus, glorious for to see, 
Was naked lleting in the large see. 
And fro the navele doun all covered was 
With wawes '-^ grene, and brighte as any 

glas. I 100 

A citole ^ in hir right hand hadde she. 
And on hir heed, ful semely for to see, 
A rose gerland, fresh and wel smelliuge; 
Above hir heed hir dowves flikeriuge. 
Biforn hir stood hir sone Cupido, 
Up-on his shuldres winges hadde he two; 
And blind he was, as it is ofte sene; 
A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene. 
Why sholde I noght as wel eek telle 

yow al 
The portreiture, that was up-on the wal mo 
With-inne the temple of mighty Mars the 

rede ? 
Al peynted was the wal, in lengthe and 

brede, 
Lyk to the estres ^ of the grisly place 
That highte the grete temple of Mars in 

Trace, 
In thilke colde frosty regioun, 
Ther-as Mars hath his sovereyn mansioun. 

First on the wal was peynted a foreste, 
In which ther dwelleth neither man ne 

beste. 
With knotty knarry^ bareyn trees olde 
Of stubbes sharpe and hidous to bi- 

holde ; 1120 

In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough,® 
As though a storm sholde bresten'^ every 

bouofh : 



1 equality, rivalry. 2 waves. ' a sort of harp. 
* interior. 5 gnarled. 6 soughing, murmur. 

7 break. 



And downward from an hille, under a bente,^ 

Ther stood the temple of Mars armipo- 
tente, 

Wroght al of burned steel, of which then- 
tree 

Was long and streit, and gastly for to see. 

And ther-out cam a rage and such a vese,® 

That it made al the gates for to rese.^*^ 

The northren light in at the dores shoon, 

For windowe on the wal ne was ther 
noon, 1 130 

Thurgh which men mighten any light dis- 
cerne. 

The dores were alle of adamant eterne, 

Y-clenched overthwart and endelong ^^ 

With iren tough ; and, for to make it strong, 

Every piler, the temple to sustene. 

Was tonne-greet,!^ of iren bright and shene. 
Ther saugh I first the derke imagining 

Of felonye, and al the compassing; 

The cruel Ire, reed as any glede; ^-^ 1139 

The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede; 

The smyler with the knyf under the cloke; 

The shepne ^^ brenning with the blake smoke ; 

The treson of the mordring in the bedde ; 

The open werre, with woundes al bibledde; 

Contek,i^with blody knyf and sharp manace; 

Al ful of chirking ^^ was that sory place. 

The sleere of him-self yet saugh I ther, 

His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer; 

The nayl y-driven in the shode ^' a-night; 

The colde deeth, with mouth gaping up- j 
right. 1 1 50 i 

Amiddes of the temple sat Meschaunce, ! 

With disconfort and sory contenaunce. I 

Yet saugh I Woodnesse ^^ laughing in his i 
rage ; 

Armed Compleint, Out-hees,i^ and tiers Out- 
rage. 

The careyne ^^ in the bush, with throte 
y-corve : -^ 

A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm 22 
y-storve ; ^^ 

The tiraunt, with the prey by force y-raft; 

The toun destroyed, ther was no-thing laft. 

Yet saugh I brent the shippes lioppesteres ; ^^ 

The hunte^'' strangled with^^ the wilde beres ; ,_ 

The sowe f reten 2" the child right in the 
cradel; 1161 

The cook y-scalded, for al his longe ladel. 

8 grassy slope. ^ gust. 10 shake. 11 crosswise 

and longwise. 12 thick as a barrel. i3 hot coal. 

14 bam. 15 strife. i« creaking. n parting of 

the hair. is Madness. is Alarm. 20 carrion. 

21 cut. 22 plague. 23 dead. 2* dancing. 
25 hunter. 28 by. a: devour. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



119 



Noght was foryeten by the infortune of 

Marte ; 
The carter over-riden with his carte, 
Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun. 
Ther were also, of Martea divisioun,i 
The harbour, and the bocher, and the smith 
That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith.'^ 
And al above, depeynted in a tour, 1169 

Saw I Conquest sittinge in greet honour, 
With the sharpe swerde over his heed 
Hanginge by a sotil twynes threed. 
Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius, 
Of grete Nero, and of Antonius; 
Al be that thilj^e tyme they were unborn, 
Yet was hir deeth depeynted ther-biforn. 
By manasinge of Mars, right by figure ; 
So was it shewed in that portreiture 
As is depeynted in the sterres above, 1179 
Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love. 
Suffyceth oon ensample in stories olde, 
I may not rekne hem alle, thogh I wolde. 

The statue of Mars up-on a carte ^ stood, 
Armed, and loked grim as he were wood; 
And over his heed ther sbynen two figures 
Of sterres, that been cleped ^ in scriptures 
That oon Puella, that other Rubeus. 
This god of armes was arrayed thus: — 
A wolf ther stood biforn him at his feet 
With even rede, and of a man he eet; 1190 
With sotil pencel was depeynt this storie, 
In redoutinge ^ of Mars and of his glorie. 
Now to the temple of Diane the chaste 
As shortly as I can I wol me haste, 
To telle yow al the descripcioun. 
Depeynted been the walles up and doun 
Of hunting and of shamfast chastitee. 
Ther saugh I how woful Calistopee,^ 
Whan that Diane agreved was with here, 
Was turned from a womman til a here, 1200 
And after was she maad the lode-sterre ; 
Thus was it peynt, I can say yow no ferre;" 
Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may see. 
Ther saugh I Dane,^ y-turned til a tree, 
I mene nat the goddesse Diane, 
But Penneus doughter, which that highte 

Dane. 
Ther saugh I Attheon an hert y-maked, 
For vengeaunce that he sangh Diane al naked; 
I saugh how that his houndes have him 

caught, 
And freten him, for that they knewe him 

naught. 12 10 

1 under the influence of Mars. 2 anvil. 3 chariot. 

* termed. The reference here is to figures in geomancy. 

See Skeat's note. * honouring. 6 Callisto. ^ further. 

- 8 Daphne. 



Yet peynted was a litel forther-moor,^ 
How Atthalante hunted the wilde boor. 
And Meleagre, and many another mo. 
For which Diane wroghte him care and wo. 
Ther saugh I many another wonder storie. 
The whiche me list nat drawen to memorie. 
This goddesse on an hert ful bye seet. 
With smale hoimdes al aboute hir feet; 
And undernethe hir feet she hadde a mone, 
Wexing it was, and sholde wanie soue. 1220 
In gaudei° grene hir statue clothed was, 
With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas. 
Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun, 
Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun. 
A womman travailinge was hir biforn, 
But, for hir child so longe was unborn, 
Ful pitously Lucyna gan she calle, 
And sevde, ' Help, for thou mayst best of 

alle.' 
Wei couthe he peynten lyfly that it wroghte. 
With many a florin he the hewes boghte. 1230 
Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus, 
That at his grete cost arrayed thus 
The temples and the theatre every del. 
Whan it was doon, him lyked wonder 

wel.ii 
But stinte I wol of Theseus a lyte, 
And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 

The day approcheth of hir retourninge. 
That everich sholde an hundred knightes 

bringe. 
The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde; 
And til Athenes, hir covenant for to holde, 
Hath everich of hem broght an hundred 

knightes 1241 

Wei armed for the werre at alle rightes. 
And sikerly, ther trowed many a man 
That never, sithen that the world bigan. 
As for to speke of knighthod of hir bond, 
As fer as God hath maked see or lond, 
Nas, of so fewe, so noble a companye. 
For every wight that lovede chivalrye. 
And wolde, his thankes,^^ ban a passant ^^ 

name, 
Hath preyed that he mighte ben of that 

game; 1250 

And wel was him, that ther-to chosen was. 
For if ther fille to-morwe swich a cas. 
Ye knowen wel, that every lusty knight, 
That loveth paramours," and hath his might. 
Were it in Engelond, or elles-where, 
They wolde, hir thankes, wilneu to be there, 

9 further on. 10 dyed with weld. n he was 

wondrous well pleased. 12 of his own free will. 
1' surpassing. 1^* as a right lover. 



I20 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



To fighte for a lady — benedicite! 
It were a lusty sighte for to see. 

And right so ferden they with Palamon. 
With him ther wenten knightes many oon ; 
Som wol ben armed in an habergeoun,i 1261 
In a brest-plat and in a light gipoun;^ 
And somme wolu have a peyre plates ^ 

large; 
And somme woln have a Pruce ^ sheld, or a 

targe ; 
Somme woln ben armed on hir legges weel, 
And have an ax, and somme a mace of 

steel. 
Ther nis no newe gyse that it nas old. 
Armed were they, as I have you told, 
Everich after his opinioun. 

Ther maistow seen coming with Pala- 

moun 1270 

Ligurge him-self, the grete king of Trace; 
Blak was his berd, and manly was his face. 
The cercles of his eyen in his heed, 
They gloweden bitwixe yelow and reed: 
And lyk a griffon loked he aboute, 
With kempe ^ heres on his browes stoute ; 
His limes grete, his braunes harde and 

stronge. 
His shiildres brode, his armes rounde and 

longe. 
And as the gyse was in his contree, 
Ful hye up-on a char ^ of gold stood he, 1280 
With foure whyte boles '^ in the trays. 
In-stede of cote-armure over his harnays, 
With nayles yelwe and brighte as any gold, 
He hadde a beres skin, col-blak, for-old,^ 
His longe heer was kembd ^ bihinde his bak. 
As any ravenes f ether it shoon for-blak: 1° 
A wrethe of gold arm-greet, of huge wighte, 
Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte, 
Of fyne rubies and of dyamaimts. 
Aboute his char ther wenten whyte 

alaunts,-^^ 129c 

Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer, 
To hunten at the leoun or the deer, 
And folwed him, with mosel^^ faste 

y-bounde, 
Colers 1^ of gold, and torets ^^ f yled rounde. 
An hundred lordes hadde he in his route 
Armed ful wel, with hertes sterne and 

stoute. 
With Arcita, in stories as men finde, 
The grete Emetreus, the king of Inde, 

1 hauberk, coat of mail. 2 tunic or surcoat. 3 for 
breast and back. * Prussian. s shaggy. 6 chariot. 
1 bulls. 8 very old. ^ combed ; cf . wre-kempt. 

10 very black. " wolf-hounds. 12 muzzle. " collars. 
14 swivel-rings. 



Up-on a stede bay, trapped in steel. 
Covered in cloth of gold diapred ^^ weel, 1300 
Cam ryding lyk the god of armes. Mars. 
His cote-armure ^^ was of cloth of Tars,^'^ 
Couched ^^ with perles whyte and rounde 

and grete. 
His sadel was of brend ^^ gold newe y-bete ; ^o 
A mantelet upon his shuldre hanginge 
Bret-ful^i of rubies rede, as fyr spark- 

linge. 
His crispe ^^ heer lyk ringes was y-ronne. 
And that was yelow, and glitered as the 

Sonne. 
His nose was heigh, his eyen bright citryn,23 
His lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn, 
A fewe fraknes ^^ in his face y-spreynd,25 13 „ 
Betwixen yelow and somdel blak y-meynd,^® 
And as a leoun he his loking caste. 
Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste. 
His berd was wel bigonne for to springe; 
His voys was as a trompe thunderinge. 
Up-on his heed he wered of laurer grene 
A gerland fresh and lusty for to sene. 
Up-on his hand he bar, for his deduytj^"^ 
An egle tame, as eny lilie whyt. 1320 

An hundred lordes hadde he with him 

there, 
Al armed, sauf hir heddes, in al hir gere, 
Ful richely in alle maner thinges. 
For trusteth wel, that dukes, erles, kinges, 
Were gadered in this noble companye. 
For love and for encrees of chivalrye. 
Aboute this king ther ran on every part 
Ful many a tame leoun and lepart. 
And in this wyse thise lordes, alle and 

some, 
Ben on the Sonday to the citee come 1330 
Aboute pryme,28 and in the toun alight. 
This Theseus, this duk, this worthy 

knight, 
Whan he had broght hem in-to his citee, * 
And iimed ^^ hem, everich in his degree. 
He festeth hem, and dooth so greet labour 
To esen hem, and doon hem al honour, 
That yet men weneth that no mannes wit 
Of noon estat ne coude amenden it. 
The minstralcye, the service at the feste, 
The grete yiftes to the moste and leste, 1340 
The riche array of Theseus paleys, 
Ne who sat first ne last up-on the deys,^^ 

15 diapered, patterned. is over-tunic bearing the 

coat-of-arms. i^ oriental silk. is adorned. i9 bur- 
nished. 20 embossed, wrought. 21 brim-full, thick 
set. 22 curly. 23 green-yellow. 24 freckles. 

25 scattered. 26 mingled. 27 disport. 28 the 

early part of the morning. 29 lodged. 'o dais. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



121 



What ladies fairest been or best daunsiiige, 
Or which of hem can dauncen best and siuge, 
Ne who most felingly speketh of love: 
What haukes sitten on the perche above, 
j What houndes liggen on the floor adoun: 
Of al this make I now no mencioun; 
But al th' ett'ect,^ that thinketh me the beste ; 
Now comth the poynt, and herkneth if 
I yow leste. 1350 

The Sonday night, er day bigan to 
I springe, 

i When Palamon the larke herde singe, 
j Although it nere flat day by houres two, 
j Yet song the larke, and Palamon also. 
With holy herte, and with an heigh corage 
He roos, to wenden on his pilgrimage 
i Un-to the blisful Citherea benigne, 
! I mene Venus, honurable and digne.^ 
And in hir houre ^ he walketh forth a pas 
Un-to the listes, ther hir temple was, 1360 
And doun he kneleth, and with humble 

chere 
And herte soor, he seyde as ye shul here. 
' Faireste of faire, o lady myn, Venus, 
Doughter to Jove and spouse of Vulcanus, 
Thou glader of the mount of Citheroim, 
' For thilke love thou haddest to Adoun,^ 
Have pitee of my bittre teres smerte. 
And tak myn humble preyer at thyn herte. 
Alias ! I ne have no langage to telle 
Th'effectes ne the torments of myn helle ; 1370 
Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye; ^ 
I am so confus, that I can noirht seye. 
But mercy, lady bright, that knowest weel 
My thought, and seest what harmes that I 

feel, 
Considere al this, and rewe up-on my sore. 
As wislj'^ ^ as I shal for evermore, 
Emforth " my might, thy trewe servant be, 
And holden werre alwey with chastitee; 
That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe. 
I kepe noght of armes for to yelpe,^ 1380 
Ne I ne axe nat to-morwe to have victorie, 
Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie 
Of pris^ of amies blowen up and doun, 
But I wolde have fully possessioun 
Of Emelye, and dye in thy servyse; 
Find thou the maner how, and in what wyse. 
I recche nat, but it may bettre be. 
To have victorie of hem, or they of me, 
So that I have my lady in myne armes. 1389 
For though so be that Mars is god of armes, 
1 to the main matter. 2 worthy. 

' Each planet had its potent hour in the day. 
* Adonis. 5 reveal. 6 certainly. 

' .According to. 8 care not to boast. » fame. 



Your vertu is so greet in hevene above, 
That, if yow list, I shal wel have my love. 
Thy temple wol I worshipe evermo, 
And on thyn auter, wher I ryde or go,^^ 
I wol don sacrifice, and fyres bete.^^ 
And if ye wol nat so, my lady swete, 
Than preye I thee, to-morwe with a spere 
That Arcita me thurgh the herte here. 
Thamie rekke I noght, whan I have lost 

my lyf, .... ^399 

Though that Arcita winne hir to his wyf. 
This is th'effect and eude of my preyere, 
Yif me my love, thou blisful lady dere.' 

Whan th'orisoun was doon of Palamon, 
His sacrifice he dide, and that anon 
Ful pitously, with alle circumstaunces, 
Al telle I noght as now his observaunces. 
But atte laste the statue of Venus shook. 
And made a signe, wher-by that he took 
That his preyere accepted was that day. 
For thogh the signe shewed a delay, 1410 
Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his 

bone; 
And with glad herte he wente him hoom 

ful sone. 
The thridde houre inequal that Palamon 
Bigan to Venus temple for to goon, 
Up roos the Sonne, and up roos Emelye, 
And to the temple of Diane gan hye. 
Hir maydens, that she thider with hir ladde, 
Ful redily with hem the f yr they hadde, 
Th'encens, the clothes, and the remenant al 
That to the sacrifyce longen ^ shal; 1420 
The homes fulle of meth,^-^ as was the gyse; 
Ther lakked noght to doon hir sacrifyse. 
Smokmg the temple, ful of clothes faire, 
This Emelye, with herte debonaire, 
Hir body wessh with water of a welle; 
But how she dide hir ryte I dar nat telle. 
But it be any thing in general; 
And yet it were a game to heren al; 
To him that meneth wel, it were no 

charge : ^^ 
But it is good a man ben at his large.^^ 1430 
Hir biighte heer was kempt, untressed al; 
A coronne of a grene 00k cerial ^^ 
Up-on hir heed was set ful fair and mete. 
Two fyres on the auter gan she bete. 
And dide hir thinges, as men may biholde 
In Stace of Thebes,^' and thise bokes olde. 
Whan kindled was the fyr, with pitous chere 
Un-to Diane she spak, as ye may here. 

10 whether I ride or walk. n kindle. 12 belong. 
13 mead. " no affliction. i' be free (to tell or not). 
16 a kind of oak. i' i.e. in the Thebaiad of Statins. 



122 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



* O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, 

To whom bothe heven and erthe and see is 

sene,^ 1440 

Quene of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe, 

Goddesse of maydens, that myn herte hast 

knowe 
Ful many a yeer, and woost what I desire, 
As keep me fro thy vengeaunce and thyn 

ire, 
That Attheon aboughte ^ cruelly. 
Chaste goddesse, wel wostow that I 
Desire to been a mayden al my lyf, 
Ne never wol I be no love ne wyf. 
I am, thou woost, yet of thy companye, 1449 
A mayde, and love hunting and venerye. 
And for to walken in the wodes wilde. 
And noght to been a wyf, and be with 

childe. 
Noght wol I knowe companye of man. 
Now help me, lady, sith ye may and can, 
For tho thre formes ^ that thou hast in thee. 
And Palamon, that hath swich love to me, 
And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore, 
This grace I preye thee with-oute more. 
As sende love and pees bitwise hem two; 
And fro me turne awey hir hertes so, 1460 
That al hir bote love, and hir desyr. 
And al hir bisy torment, and hir fyr 
Be queynt,^ or turned in another place; 
And if so be thou wolt not do me grace, 
Or if my destinee be shapen so, 
That I shal nedes have oon of hem two. 
As sende me him that most desireth me. 
Bihold, goddesse of clene chastitee, 
The bittre teres that on my chekes falle. 
Sinthouaremayde,andkeperof us alle, 1470 
My maydeuhede thou kepe and wel con- 
serve. 
And whyl I live a mayde, I wol thee serve.' 

The fyres brenne up-on the auter clere, 
Whyl Emelye was thus in hir preyere ; 
But sodeinly she saugh a sighte queynte. 
For right anon oon of the fyres queynte,^ 
And quiked agayn, and after that anon 
That other fyr was queynt, and al agon; 
And as it queynte, it made a whistelinge. 
As doon thise wete brondes in hir bren- 
ninge, 1480 

And at the brondes eude out-ran anoon 
As it were blody dropes many oon; 
For which so sore agast was Emelye, 
That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye, 

1 visible, 2 paid for, suffered for. 

8 Diana, Luna, and Proserpina. Cf. 1. 1440. 

* quenched (p-pO* * quenched (past tense). 



For she ne wiste what it signify ed; 
But only for the fere thus hath she cryed, 
And weep, that it was pitee for to here. 
And ther-with-al Diane gan appere. 
With bowe in bond, right as an hunteresse, 
And seyde: *Doghter, stint thyn hevi- 
nesse. 1490 

Among the goddes hye it is affermed. 
And by eterne word write and confermed, 
Thou shalt ben wedded mi-to oon of tho 
That ban for thee so muchel care and wo; 
But un-to which of hem I may nat telle. 
Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle. 
The fyres which that on myn auter brenne 
Shul thee declaren, er that thou go henne,^ 
Thyn aventure of love, as in this cas.' 
And with that word, the arwes in the 
cas 1500 

Of the goddesse clateren faste and ringe, 
And forth she wente, and made a vanissh- 

inge; ^ 
For which this Emelye astoned was, 
And seyde, * What amounteth this, alias ! 
I putte me in thy proteccioun, 
Diane, and in thy disposicioun.* 
And boom she gooth anon the nexte weye. 
This is th'efPect, ther is namore to seye. 

The nexte houre of Mars folwinge this, 
Arcite un-to the temple walked is 1510 

Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifyse. 
With alle the rytes of his payen wyse. 
With pitous herte and heigh devocioun, 
Right thus to Mars he seyde his orisoun: 

' O stronge god, that in the regnes colde 
Of Trace honoured art, and lord y-holde, 
And hast in every regne and every lond 
Of armes al the brydel in thyn bond. 
And hem fortunest as thee list devyse, 
Accept of me my pitous sacrifyse. 1520 

If so be that my youthe may deserve, 
And that my might be worthy for to serve 
Thy godhede,that I may been oon of thyne, 
Than preye I thee to rewe up-on my pyne. 
For thilke peyne, and thilke bote fyr, 
In which thou whylom brendest for desyr, 
Whan that thou usedest the grete beautee 
Of fayre yonge fresshe Venus free. 
And haddest hir in armes at thy wille, 
Al-though thee ones on a tyme misfiUe "^ 1530 
Whan Yulcanus had caught thee in his las,^ 
And fond thee ligging^ by his wyf, alias! 
For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte. 
Have routhe as wel up-on my peynes smerte. 



« hence. 
8 lace, net. 



7 you once had bad luck. 
s lying. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



123 



I am yong and unkonning,! as thou wost, 
And, as I trowe, with love offended most, 
That ever was any lyves^ creature; 
For she, that dooth ^ me al this wo endure, 
Ne reccheth never wher I sinke or flete ^ 
And wel I woot, er she me mercy 

hete,^ 1540 

I moot^ with strengthe winne hir in the 

place; 
And wel I woot, withouten help or grace 
Of thee, ne may my strengthe noght availle. 
Than help me, lord, to-morwe in my bataille. 
For thilke fyr tl/at whylom brente thee, 
As wel as thilke fyr now brenneth me; 
And do that I to-morwe have victorie. 
Myn be the travaille, and thyn be the 

glorie ! 
Thy soverein temple wol I most honouren 
Of any place, and alwey most labouren 1550 
In thy plesaunce and in thy craf tes stronge. 
And in thy temple 1 wol my baner honge. 
And alle the armes of my company e; 
And evere-mo, un-to that day I dye, 
Eterne fyr I wol biforn thee finde. 
And eek to this avow I wol me binder 
My herd, myn heer that hongeth long 

adoun, 
That never yet ne f elte offensioun 
Of rasour nor of shere, I wol thee yive, 
And been thy trewe servant whyl I live. 
Now lord, have routhe up-on my sorwes 

sore, 1561 

Yif me victorie, I aske thee namore.' 

The preyere stinte of Arcita the stronge, 
The ringes on the temple-dore that honge. 
And eek the dores, elatereden f ul faste. 
Of which Arcita som-what him agaste. 
The fyres brende up-on the auter brighte. 
That it gan al the temple for to lighte ; 
And swete smel the ground anon up-yaf, 
And Arcita anon his hand np-haf,' 1570 

And more encens in-to the fyr he caste, 
With othere rytes mo; and atte laste 
The statue of Mars bigan his hauberk 

ringe. 
And with that soun he herde a murmur- 

inge 
Ful lowe and dim, that sayde thus, * Vic- 
torie ' : 
For which he yaf to Mars honour and 

glorie. 
And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, 
Arcite anon un-to his inne is fare. 



» unknowing. 
-t promise. 



* live. 

• must. 



s causes. < float. 
7 up-heaved. 



As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne. 
And right anon swich stryf ther is bi- 

gonne 1580 

For thilke graunting, in the hevene above, 
Eitwixe Venus, the goddesse of love, 
And Mars, the sterue god armipotente, 
That Jupiter was bisy it to stente; 
Til that the pale Saturnus the colde. 
That knew so manye of aventures olde, 
Fond in his olde experience an art. 
That he ful sone hath plesed every part. 
As sooth is sayd, elde ^ hath greet avantage; 
In elde is bothe wisdom and usage; 1590 
Men may the olde at-renne, and noght at- 

rede.9 
Saturne anon, to stinten stryf and drede, 
Al be it that it is agayn his kynde. 
Of al this stryf he gan remedie fynde. 

' My dere doghter Venus,' quod Saturne, 
' My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,^*^ 
Hath more power than wot any man. 
Myn is the drenching ^^ in the see so wan; 
Myn is the prison in the derke cote;!^ 
Myn is the strangling and hanging by the 

throte ; 1600 

The murmure, and the cherles rebelling. 
The groyning,^^ and the pryvee empoyson- 

ing : 
I do vengeance and pleyn correccionn 
Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the Leoun. 
Myn is the mine of the hye halles, 
The falling of the toures and of the walles 
Up-on the mynour or the carpenter. 
I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler; 
And myne be the malady es colde, i"* 
The derke tresons, and the castes ^^ olde; 
My loking is the fader of pestilence. 16 n 
Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence 
That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, 
Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.^^ 
Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet 

nathelees 
Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees, 
Al be ye noght of o complexioun,!'^ 
That causeth al day swich divisioun. 
I am thin ayel,i^ redy at thy wille ; 
Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust ful- 

fille.' 1620 

Now wol I stinten of the goddes above, 
Of Mars, and of Venus, goddesse of love. 
And telle yow, as pleynly as I can. 
The grete effect, for which that I bigan. 

8 old age. 9 out-run but not out-wit, 10 has a large 
orbit. 11 drowning. " out-building. " grumbling. 
14 sinister, is tricks. is promised. i^ disposition. 
18 grandfather. 



124 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Explicit tercia pars. 
Seqiiitur pars quarta. 

Greet was the feste in Athenes that day, 
And eek the histy seson of that May 
Made every wight to been in swich ple- 

saunce, 
That al that Monday justen they and 

daunce, 
And spenden it in Venus heigh servyse. 
But by the cause that they sholde ryse 1630 
Erly, for to seen the grete fight, 
Unto hir reste wente they at night. 
And on the morwe, whan that day gan 

springe, 
Of hors and barneys, noyse and clateringe 
Ther was in hostelryes al aboute; 
And to the paleys rood ther many a route 
Of lordes, up-on stedes and palfreys. 
Ther maystow seen devysing of herneys 
So uncouth 1 and so riche, and wroght so 

weel 1639 

Of goldsmithrie, of browding,^ and of steel; 
The sheeldes brighte, testers,^ and trap- 

pures; ^ 
Gold-hewen helmes, hauberks, cote-ar- 

mures ; 
Lordes in paraments ^ on hir courseres, 
Knightes of retenue, and eek squyeres 
Nailinge ^ the speres, and helmes bokelinge, 
Gigginge "^ of sheeldes, with layneres ^ lac- 

inge; 
Ther as need is, they weren no-thing ydel; 
The fomy stedes on the golden brydel 
Gnawinge, and faste the armurers also 
With fyle and hamer prikinge ® to and 

fro; 1650 

Yemen '^^ on fote, and communes many oon 
With shorte staves, thikke as they may 

goon; 
Pypes, trompes, nakers,ii clarionnes, 
That in the bataille blowen blody sounes; 
The paleys ful of peples up and donn, 
Heer three, ther ten, holding hir questioun, 
Divyninge of thise Theban knightes two. 
Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal 

be so; 
Somme helden with him with the blake 

herd, 
Somme with the balled,!^ somme with the 

thikke-herd; ^^ 1660 

1 strange, rare. 2 embroidery. s head-pieces for 
man or steed. * trappings. 5 rich robes. 6 fitting 
the heads? ' fitting the giiiges or straps within. 8 lan- 
yards, thongs. » spurring, hurrying. lo Yeoman. 
" kettle-drums. " bald. " thick-haired. 



Somme sayde, he loked grim and he wolde 

fighte; 
He hath a sparth^^ of twenty pound of 

wighte. 
Thus was the halle ful of divyninge, 
Longe after that the sonne gan to springe. 
The grete Theseus, that of his sleep 

awaked 
With minstralcye and noyse that was 

maked. 
Held yet the chambre of his paleys riche, 
Til that the Thebane knightes, bothe y- 

liche 1^ 
Honoured, were into the paleys fet.^^ 
Duk Theseus was at a window set, 1670 

Arrayed right as he were a god in trone. 
The peple preesseth thider-ward ful sone 
Him for to seen, and doon heigh reverence. 
And eek to herkne his hest and his sen- 
tence. 
An heraud on a scaffold made an ho,^"^ 
Til al the noyse of peple was y-do; 
And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al 

stille, 
Tho showed he the mighty dnkes wille. 

' The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun 
Considered, that it were destruccioun 1680 
To gentil blood, to fighten in the gyse 
Of mortal bataille now in this empryse; 
Wherfore, to shapen that they shul not 

dye. 
He wol his firste purpos raodifye. 
No man therfor, up ^^ peyne of los of lyf. 
No maner shot,^^ ne pollax,^^ ne short knyf 
Into the listes sende, or thider bringe; 
Ne short swerd for to stoke,^i with poynt 

bytinge. 
No man ne drawe, ne here it by his syde. 
Ne no man shal un-to his felawe ryde 1690 
But o cours, with a sharp y-grounde spere; 
Foyne,22 if him list, on fote, him-self to 

were.^^ 
And he that is at mesehief, shal be take. 
And noght slayn, but be broght un-to the 

stake 
That shal ben ordeyned on either syde; 
But thider he shal by force, and therabyde. 
And if so falle, the chieftayn be take 
On either syde, or elles slee his make,^^ 
No lenger shal the turneyinge laste. 
God spede yow; goth forth, and ley on 

faste. 1700 

14 battle-axe. is alike. 16 fetched. " cry. 

18 upon. 19 shooting weapon, such as a crossbow. 

20 pole-axe. 21 stab. 22 fence, ward. 23 defend. 

24 fellow, i.e. rival. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



125 



With long swerd and with maces fight your 

fiUe. 
Goth now your wey ; this is the lordes wille.' 

The voys of peple touchede the hevene, 
So loude crydeu tliey with mery stevene: 

* God save swich a lord, that is so good, 
He wilneth no destruccioun of blood! ' 
Up goon the trompes and the melodye. 
And to the listes rit^ the company e 

By ordinaunce, thurgh-out the citee large, 
Hanged with cloth of gold, and nat with 

sarge.2 ^^^^ 

Ful lyk a lord this noble duk gan ryde, 
Thise two Thebanes up-on either syde; 
And after rood the queue, and Emelye, 
And after that another company e 
Of oon and other, after hir degree. 
And thus they passen thurgh-out the citee, 
And to the listes come they by tyme. 
It nas not of the day yet fully pryme,^ 
Whan set was Theseus ful riche and bye, 
Ipolita the queue and Emelye, 1720 

And other ladies in degrees ^ aboute. 
Un-to the seetes preesseth al the route. 
And west-ward, thurgh the gates under 

Marte, 
Arcite, and eek the hundred of his parte, 
With baner reed is entred right anon; 
And in that selve^ moment Palamon 
Is under Venus, est-ward in the place. 
With baner whyt, and hardy chere and face. 
In al the world, to seken up and doun, 
So even with-outen variacioun, 1730 

Ther nere swiche companyes tweye. 
For ther nas noon so wys that coude seye, 
That any hadde of other avauntage 
Of worthinesse, ne of estaat, ne age, 
So even were they chosen, for to gesse. 
And in two renges ^ faire they hem dresse. 
Whan that hir names rad were everichoon, 
That in hir nombre gyle were ther noon, 
Tho were the gates shet, and cryed was loude : 

* Do now your devoir, yonge knightes 

proude!' 1740 

The heraudes lefte hir priking up and 

doun ; 
Now ringen trompes loude and clarioun; 
Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est 
In goon the speres ful sadly in arest;"^ 
In goth the sharpe spore in-to the syde. 
Ther seen men who can juste, and who can 

ryde; 

1 rideth. * coarse cloth. » mid-morn. 

* tiers. s very. 6 ranks. 

' ,The spears were lowered firmly into the rest. 



Ther shiveren shaf tes up-on sheeldes thikke ; 
He feleth thurgh the herte-spoon^ the 

prikke. 1748 

Up springen speres twenty foot on highte; 
Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte. 
The helmes they to-hewen and to-shrede; 
Out brest the blood, with sterne stremes 

rede. 
With mighty maces the bones they to- 

breste.^ 
He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan 

threste,io 
Ther stomblen stedes stronge, and doun 

goth al. 
He rolleth under foot as dooth a bal. 
He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun,ii 
And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun. 
He thurgh the body is hurt, and sithen 

y-take, 
Maugree his heed, and broght un-to the 

stake; 1760 

As forward 12 was, right ther he moste abyde ; 
Another lad is on that other syde. 
And som tyrae dooth hem Theseus to reste, 
Hem to ref resshe, and drinken if hem leste. 
Ful ofte a-day ban thise Thebanes two 
Togidre y-met, and wroght his felawe wo; 
Unhorsed hath ech other of hem tweye. 
Ther nas no tygre in the vale of Galgo- 

pheye, 
Whan that hir whelp is stole, whan it is 

lyte,i8 
So criiel on the bunte, ^^ as is Arcite 1770 
For jelous herte upon this Palamoim: 
Ne in Belmarye ther nis so fel leoun. 
That hunted is, or for his hunger wood, 
Ne of his praye desireth so the blood, 
As Palamon to sleen his fo Arcite. 
The jelous strokes on hir helmes byte; 
Out renneth blood on both hir sydes rede. 

Som tyme an ende ther is of every dede; 
For er the sonne un-to the reste wente, 1779 
The stronge king Emetreus gan hente^^ 
This Palamon, as he faught with Arcite, 
And made his swerd depe in his flesh to 

byte; 
And by the force of twenty is he take 
Unyolden,!^ and y-drawe unto the stake. 
And in the rescous i' of this Palamoun 
The stronge king Ligurge is born adoun; 
And king Emetreus, for al his strengthe. 
Is born out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe, 
8 breast, brisket. » smash. 10 thrust. 

11 defends himself with his broken lance-butt. 

12 agreement. i' little. i^ hunter. 
16 sieze. i^ unyielding. i? rescue. 



126 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



So hitte him Palamon er he were take; 
But al for noght, he was broght to the 
stake. 1790 

His hardy herte mighte him helpe naught; 
He moste abyde, whau that he was caught, 
By force, and eek by composicioun.i 

Who sorweth now but woful Palamoun, 
That moot namore goon agayn to fighte ? 
And whan that Theseus had seyn this sighte, 
Un-to the folk that foghten thus echoou 
He cryde, ' Ho ! namore, for it is doon ! 
I wol be trewe juge, and no partye. 
Arcite of Thebes shal have Einelye, 1800 
That by his fortune hath hir faire y-wonne.' 
Anon ther is a noyse of peple bigonne 
For joye of this, so loude and heigh with- 

alle, 
It semed that the listes sholde falle. 

What can now faire Venus doon above ? 
What seith she now ? whatdooth this quene 

of love ? 
But wepeth so, for wanting of hir wille, 
Til that hir teres in the listes fiUe ; 
She seyde: *Iam ashamed, doutelees/ 1809 
Saturnus seyde: * Doghter, hold thy pees. 
Mars hath his wille, his knight hath al his 

bone,2 
And, by myn heed, thou shalt ben esed sone.' 

The trompes, with the loude minstralcye, 
The heraudes,that ful loude yolle^ and crye, 
Been in hir wele,'' for joye of dauu ^ Arcite. 
But herkneth me, and stinteth now a lyte. 
Which a miracle ther bifel anon. 

This fierse Arcite hath of his helm y-don. 
And on a courser, for to shewe his face, 
He priketh endelong the large place, 1820 
Loking upward up-on this Emelye; 
And she agayn hiin caste a freendlich ye, 
(For wommen, as to speken in comune, 
They f olwen al the favour of fortune) ; ^ 
And was al his in chiere, as in his herte. 
Out of the ground a furie infernal sterte. 
From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne, 
For which his hors for fere gan to turne, 
And leep asyde, and foundred as he leep ; 
And, er that Arcite may taken keep, 1830 
He pighte ' him on the pomel ^ of his heed, 
That in the place he lay as he were deed, 
His brest to-brosten ^ with his sadel-bowe. 
As blak he lay as any cole or crowe. 
So was the blood y-ronnen in his face. 
Anon he was y-born out of the place 

1 agreement. 2 boon, s yell. * weal, happiness. 

6 sir. 8 Several good MSS. omit these two lines. 

7 pitched. 8 top. » broken. 



With herte soor, to Theseus paleys. 
Tho was lie corven 1° out of his barneys, ^ 
And in a bed y-brought ful faire and bly ve,^! 
For he was yet in memorie ^^ and alyve, 1840 
And alway crying after Emelye. 

Duk Theseus, with al his companye, 
Is comen boom to Athenes his citee, 
With a He blisse and greet solempnitee. 
Al be it that this aventure was falle, 
He nolde ^^ noght disconforten hem alle. 
Men seyde eek, that Arcite shal nat dye; 
He shal ben heled of his maladye. 
And of another thing they were as fayn. 
That of hem alle was ther noon y-slayn, 1850 
Al were they sore y-hurt, and namely oon, 
That with a spere was thirled his bresfc* 

boon. 14 
To othere woundes, and to broken amies, 
Some hadden salves, and some hadden 

charmes; 
Fermacies ^^ of herbes, and eek save ^^ 
They dronken, for they wolde hir limes 

have. 
For which this noble duk, as he wel can, 
Conforteth and honoureth every man. 
And made revel al the longe night, 
Un-to the straunge lordes, as was right, i860 
Ne ther was holden no disconfitinge, 
But as a justes or a tourneyinge ; 
For soothly ther was no disconfiture. 
For falling nis nat but an aventure; 
Ne to be lad with fors un-to the stake 
Unyolden, and with twenty knightes take, 
O persone allone, with-outen mo, 
And haried forth by arme, foot, and to, 
And eek his stede driven forth with staves. 
With footmen, bothe yemen and eek 

knaves, 1870 

It nas aretted ^"^ him no vileinye, 
Ther may no man clepen it cowardye. 

For which anon duk Theseus leet crye. 
To stinten alle rancour and envye, 
The gree ^^ as wel of o syde as of other, 
And either syde y-lyk, as otheres brother; 
And yaf hem yiftes after hir degree. 
And fully heeld a feste dayes three; 
And conveyed the kinges worthily 
Out of his toun a journee/'* largely. 1880 
And hoom wente every man the rights 

way. 
Ther was namore, but * far wel, have good 

day!* 

10 cut. 11 quickly. 12 conscious. i^ would not. 
14 Whose breast was pierced. 1* Prescriptions. 
16 salvia, sage. i' imputed, 

w standing, superiority. is day's march.. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



127 



Of this bataille I wol namore endyte, 
^ut speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 

Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sore 
Enereesseth at his herte more and more. 
The clothered blood, for any lechecraft,^ 
CoiTupteth, and is in his bouk 2 y-laf t, 
That neither veyne-blood,^ ne ventusinge,* 
Ne drinke of herbes may ben his helpinge. 
The vertu expulsif, or animal, 1891 

¥to thilke vertu cleped natural ^ 
Ne may the venim voyden, ne expelle. 
The pypes of his longes gonne to swelle, 
And every lacerte * in his brest adomi 
Is shent ' with venim and corrupcioun. 
Him gayneth ^ neither, for to gate his lyf, 
Vomyt upward, ne do un ward laxatif ; 
Al is to-brosten ^ thilke regioun, 
Nature hath now no dominacioun. 1900 

And certeinly, ther nature wol nat wirche, 
Far-wel, phisyk I go ber the man to 

chirche ! 
This al and som, that Arcita mot dye, 
For which he sendeth after Emelye, 
And Palamon, that was his eosin dere; 
Than seyde he thus, as ye shul after here. 

* Naught may the wof ul spirit in myn 
herte 
Declare o poynt of alle my sorwes smerte 
To yow, my lady, that I love most; 
But I biquethe the service of my gost 1910 
To yow aboven every creature, 
Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. 
Alias, the wo ! alias, the peynes stronge, 
That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! 
Alias, the deeth ! alias, myn Emelye! 
Alias, departing of our companye ! 
Alias, myn hertes quene ! alias, my wyf ! 
Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf ! 
What is this world ? what asketh men to 

have ? 
Now with his love, now in his colde grave 1920 
Allone, with-outen any companye. 
Far-wel, my swete fo ! myn Emelye ! 
And softe tak me in your armes tweye, 
For love of God, and herkneth wliat 1 seye. 

I have heer with my cosiu Palamon 
Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon. 
For love of yow, and for my jelousye. 
And Jupiter so wis my soule gye,^*^ 

1 clotted blood, in spite of all the art of physicians. 

2 body, trunk. 3 blood-letting. * cupping. 

B Besides the animal and the natural virtues, there 
was a third, the vital, which is mentioned in 1. 1944. 
6 muscle. 7 ruined. » It avails him. 

8 completely crushed, 
xo ^s surely as I wish Jupiter to guide my soul. 



To speken of a servant ^^ proprely, 

With alle circumstaunces trewely, 1930 

That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and 

knightbede, 
Wisdom, himiblesse, estaat, and heigh 

kinrede, 
Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, 
So Jupiter have of my soule part. 
As in this world right now ne knowe I non 
So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, 
That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. 
And if that ever ye shul been a wyf, 
Foryet nat Palamon, the geutil man.' 
And with that word his speche faille gan, 1940 
For from his feet up to his brest was come 
The cold of deeth, that hadde him over- 
come. 
And yet more-over, in his armes two 
The vital strengthe is lost, and al ago. 
Only the intellect, with-outen more. 
That dwelled in his herte syk and sore, 
Gan faillen, when the herte felte deeth, 
Dusked his eyen two, and failled breeth. 
But on his lady yet caste he his ye; 
His laste word was, ' Mercy, Emelye! ' 1950 
His spirit chaunged hous, and wente ther, 
As I cam never, I can nat tellen wher. 
Therfor I stinte, I nam no divinistre; ^ 
Of soules finde I nat in this registre, 
Ne me ne list thilke opiniouns to telle 
Of hem, though that they wryten wher they 

dwelle. 
Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gye; ^^ 
Now wol I speken forth of Emelye. 

Shrighte " Emelye, and howleth Pala- 
mon, 
And Theseus his suster took anon i960 

Swowninge, and bar hir fro the corps away. 
What helpeth it to tarien forth the day, 
To tellen how she weep, bothe eve and 

morwe ? 
For in swich cas wommen have swich 

sorwe. 
Whan that hir housbonds been from hem 

ago, 
That for the more part they sorwen so. 
Or elles fallen in swich maladye, 
That at the laste certeinly they dye. 

Infinite been the sorwes and the teres 
Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, 1970 
In al the toun, for deeth of this Theban; 
For him ther wepeth bothe child and man; 
So greet a weping was ther noon, certayn, 
Whan Ector was y-broght, al fresh y-slayn, 
" lover. " diviner. " guide. " Shrieked. 



128 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



To Troye ; alias ! the pitee that was ther, 
Cracching ^ of chekes, rending eek of heer. 

* Why woldestow be deed,' thise wommen 

crye, 

* And haddest gold y-uough, and Emelye? ' 
No man niighte gladen Theseus, 
Savinge his olde fader Egeus, 1980 
That knew this worldes transmutacioun, 
As he had seyn it chaiuigen up and doun, 
Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse: 
And shewed hem ensamples and lyknesse. 

* Right as ther deyed never man,' quod 
he, 

* That he ne livede m erthe in som degree, 
Right so ther livede never man,' he seyde, 

* In al this world, that som tyme he ne 

deyde. 
This world nis but a thurghfare ful of wo. 
And we ben pilgrimes, passinge to and 

fro; 1990 

Deeth is an ends of every worldly sore.' 
And over al this yet seyde he muchel more 
To this effect, ful wysly to enhorte 
The peple, that they sholde hem recon- 

forte. 
Duk Theseus, with al his bisy cure, 
Caste now wher that the sepulture^ 
Of good Arcite may best y-maked be. 
And eek most honurable in his degree. 
And at the laste he took conclusioun, 1999 
That ther as first Arcite and Palamoun 
Hadden for love the bataille hem bitwene. 
That in that selve grove, swote and grene, 
Ther as he hadde his amorous desires. 
His compleynt, and for love his hote fires. 
He wolde make a fyr, in which th'office 
Funeral he mighte al accomplice; 
And leet comaunde anon to hakke and 

hewe 
The okes olde, and leye hem on a rewe 
In colpons^ wel arrayed for to breune; 
His officers with swifte feet they renue 
Andryde anon at his comanndement. 201 1 
And after this, Theseus hath y-sent 
After a bere,^ and it al over-spradde 
With cloth of gold, the richest that he 

hadde. 
And of the same suyte ^ he cladde Arcite ; 
Upon his hondes hadde he gloves whyte; 
Eek on his heed a croune of lanrer grene, 
And in his hond a swerd ful bright and 

kene. 

1 Scratching. 

2 The burial rites which follow are taken largely 
from the Thebaiad of Statius. 

3 piles. * bier. 6 suit. 



He leyde him, bare the visage, on the here, 
Therwith he weep that pitee was to here. ^ 
And for the peple sholde seen him alle, 2021 
W^han it was day, he broghte him to the 

halle, 
That roreth of the crying and the soun. 

Tho cam this woful Theban Palamoun, 
With flotery ^ herd, and ruggy "' asshy heres, 
In clothes blake, y-dropped al with teres; 
And, passing othere of weping, Emelye, 
The rewf ulleste of al the companye. 
In as muche as the service sholde be 2029 
The more noble and riche in his degree, 
Duk Theseus leet forth three stedes bringe, 
That trapped were in steel al gliteringe. 
And covered with the armes of daun Arcite. 
Up-on thise stedes, that weren grete and 

whyte, 
Ther seten folk, of which oon bar his 

sheeld. 
Another his spere up in his hondes heeld; 
The thridde bar with him his bowe Tur- 
keys, 
Of brend gold was the cas, and eek the 

barneys ; 
And riden forth a pas with sorweful chere 
Toward the grove, as ye shul after here. 2040 
The nobleste of the Grekes that ther were 
Upon hir shuldres carieden the here. 
With slakke pas, and eyen rede and wete, 
Thurgh-out the citee, by the maister-strete, 
That sprad was al with blak, and wonder 

hye 
Right of the same is al the strete y-wrye.^ 
Up-on the right hond wente old Egeus, 
And on that other syde duk Theseus, 
With vessels in hir hand of gold ful fyn, 
Al ful of hony , milk, and blood, and wyn ; 2050 
Eek Palamon, with ful greet companye; 
And after that cam woful Emelye, 
W^ith fyr in honde, as was that tyme the 

gyse, 
To do th'office of funeral servyse. 

Heigh labour, and ful greet apparaillinge 
Was at the service and the fyr-makinge. 
That with his grene top the heven raughte,® 
And twenty fadme of brede ^^ the armes 

straughte;^! 
This is to seyn, the bowes were so brode. 
Of stree^^ j^^gt ther was leyd ful many a 

lode. 2060 

But how the fyr was maked up on highte, 
And eek the names how the trees highte, 

« flowing. "> rough. 8 decked. ^ reached. 
10 in breadth. " stretched. 12 straw. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



129 



As 00k, firre, birch, asp, alder, holm, 
popler, 

Wilow, elm, plane, ash, box, chasteyn,i lind, 
laurer, 

Mapul, thorn, beech, hasel, ew, whippel- ^ 
tree, 

How they weren feld, shal nat be told for 
me; 

Ne how the goddes ronnen up and doun, 
I Disherited of hir habitacioun, 
! Jn which they woneden in reste and pees, 
I Nymphes, FauneSj'^and Amadrides;^ 2070 

Ne how the bestes and the briddes alle 
j Fledden for fere, whan the wode was falle; 
I Ne how the ground agast was of the light, 

That was nat wont to seen the Sonne bright; 
i Ne how the fyr was couched^ first with 
i stree, 

, And than with drye stokkes cloven a three, 
i And than with grene wode and spycerye, 
! And than with cloth of gold and with 
; perrye,^ 

I And gerlaudes hanging with ful many a 
I flour, 

' The mirre, th'encens, with al so greet 
odour; 2080 

1 Ne how Arcite lay among al this, 

Ne what richesse aboute his body is; 

Ne how that Emelye, as was the gyse, 

Putte in the fyr of funeral servyse ; 

Ne how she swowned whan men made the 

fyr, 

Ne what she spak, ne what was hir desyr; 
Ne what jeweles men in the fyr tho caste, 
Whan that the fyr was greet and brente 

f aste ; 
Ne how som caste hir^ sheeld, and som 

hir spere. 
And of hir vestiments, whiche that they 

were, 2090 

And cuppes ful of wyn, and milk, and 

blood, 
Into the fyr, that brente as it were wood ; 
Ne how the Grekes with an huge route 
Thryes riden al the fyr aboute 
Up-on the left hand, with a loud shoutinge, 
And thryes with hir speres clateringe; 
And thryes how the ladies gonne crye; 
Ne how that lad was hom-ward Emelye; 
Ne how Arcite is brent to asshen colde; 
Ne how that liche-wake was y-holde 2100 
Al thilke night, ne how the Grekes pleye 
The wake-pleyes, ne kepe I nat to seye ; 



1 chestnut. 
« laid. 



« cornel. 
8 jewelry. 



» Hamadryads. 
« their. 



Who wrastleth best naked, with oille enoynt, 
Ne who that bar him best, in no disjoynt.'^ 
I wol nat tellen eek how that they goon 
Hoom til Athenes, whan the pley is doon; 
But shortly to the poynt than wol I wende, 
And maken of my longe tale an ende. 
By processe and by lengthe of certeyn 

yeres 
Al stinted is the moorning and the teres. 2110 
Of Grekes, by oon general assent, 
Than semed me ther was a parlement 
At Atlienes, up-on certeyn poynts and cas; 
Among the whiche poynts y-spoken was 
To have with certeyn contrees alliaunce, 
And have fully of Thebans obeisaunce. 
For which this noble Theseus anon 
Leet senden after gentil Palamon, 
Unwist of him ^ what was the cause and 

why ; 
But in his blake clothes sorwefully 2120 
He cam at his comaundemente in hye.® 
Tho sente Theseus for Emelye. 
Whan they were set, and bust ^*^ was al the 

place. 
And Theseus abiden hadde a space 
Er any word cam from his wyse brest, 
His eyen sette he ther as was his lest,ii 
And with a sad visage he syked ^^ stille, 
And after that right thus he seyde his wille. 
* The firste moevere of the cause above, i^ 
Whan he first made the faire cheyne of 

love, 2130 

Greet was th'effect, and heigh was his en- 
tente ; 
Wei wiste he why, and what ther-of he 

mente ; 
For with that faire cheyne of love he bond 
The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond 
In certeyn boimdes, that they may nat flee; 
That same prince and that moevere,' quod 

he, 
'Hath stablissed, in this wrecched world 

adoun, 
Certeyne dayes and duracioun 
To al that is engendred in this place, 2139 
Over the whiche day they may nat pace, 
Al mowe they yet tho dayes wel abregge; 
Ther needeth non auctoritee allegge. 
For it is preved by experience, 
But that me list declaren my sentence. 
Than may men by this ordre wel discerne, 
That thilke moevere stable is and eterne. 



7 failure. 
10 hushed. 



He being ignorant. ' haste, 

pleasure. 12 sighed. 



13 The passage is from various parts of the Be Conso- 
latione Fhilosophiae of Boethius. 



I30 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Wei may men knowe, but it be a fool, 
That every part deryveth from his hool. 
For nature hath nat take his beginning 
Of no party ne cantel ^ of a tiling, 2150 

But of a thing that parfit is and stable, 
Descending so, til it be corrumpable. 
And therfore, of his wyse purveyaunce, 
He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce, 
That speces of thinges and progressiouns 
Simllen enduren by successiouns, 
And nat eterne be, with-oute lye: 
This maistow understonde and seen at ye. 
* Lo the 00k, that hath so long a noris- 

shinge 2159 

From tyme that it first biginneth springe, 
And hath so long a lyf, as we may see, 
Yet at the laste wasted is the tree. 

' Considereth eek, how that the harde 

stoon 
Under our feet, on which we trede and 

goon, 
Yit wasteth it, as it lyth by the weye. 
The brode river somtyme wexeth dreye. 
The grete tonnes see we wane and wende. 
Than may ye see that al this thing hath 

ende. 
' Of man and womman seen we wel also. 
That nedeth, in oon of thise termes two, 
This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age, 2 171 
He moot ben deed, the king as shal a 

, page; 
Som in his bed, som in the depe see, 
Som in the large feeld, as men may se; 
Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye. 
Thanne may I seyn that al this thing moot 

deye. 
What maketh this but Jupiter the king ? 
The which is prince and cause of alle thing, 
Converting al un-to his propre welle, 
From which it is deryved, sooth to telle. 
And here-agayns no creature on lyve 2 181 
Of no degree availleth for to stryve. 

' Thanne is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, 
To maken vertu of necessitee. 
And take it wel, that we may nat eschue. 
And namely that to us alle is due. 
And who-so gruccheth^ ought, he dooth 

folye. 
And rebel is to him that al may gye. 
And certainly a man hath most honour 
To dyen in his excellence and flour, 2190 
Whan he is siker of his gode name; 
Than hath he doon his freend, ne him, no 

shame. 



1 fragment. 



i murmurs. 



And gladder oghte his freend ben of his 

deeth, 
Whan with honour up-yolden is his breeth, 
Than whan his name apalled^ is for age; 
For al forgeten is his vasselage.^ 
Than is it best, as for a worthy fame. 
To dyen whan that he is best of name. 
The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse. 
Why grucchen we ? why have we hevi- 

nesse 2200 

That good Arcite, of chivalrye flour. 
Departed is, with duetee and honour. 
Out of this foule prison of this lyf ? 
Why grucchen heer his cosin and his wyf 
Of his wel-fare that loved hem so weel ? 
Can he hem thank ? nay, God wot, never a 

deel. 
That bothe his soule and eek hem-self of- 

fende, 
And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende. 

* What may 1 conclude of this longe 

serie, 
But, after wo, I rede us to be merie, 2210 
And thanken Jupiter of al his grace ? 
And, er that we departen from this place, 
I rede ^ that we make, of sorwes two, 
O parfyt joye, lasting ever-mo; 
And loketh now, wher most sorwe is her- 

inne, 
Ther wol we first amenden and biginne. 

* Suster,' quod he, ' this is my f ulle as- 

sent. 
With al th'avys heer of my parlement, 
That gentil Palamon, your owne knight, 
That serveth yow with wille, herte, and 

might, 2220 

And ever hath doon, sin that ye first him 

knewe, 
That ye shul, of your grace, up-on him 

rewe. 
And taken him for housbonde and fop 

lord: 
Leen me your bond, for this is our acord. 
Lat see now of your wommanly pitee. 
He is a kinges brother sone, pardee; 
And, though he were a povre bacheler,^ 
Sin he hath served yow so many a yeer. 
And had for yow so greet adversitee. 
It moste been considered, leveth me; 2230 
For gentil mercy oghte to passen right.* 

Than seyde he thus to Palamon fiil right; 
* I trowe ther nedeth litel sermoning 
To make yow assente to this thing. 



faded, 
advise. 



4 prowess. 

« i.e. below a knight. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



131 



Com iieer, and tak your lady by the bond.' 
Bitwixen hem was m.aad anon the bond, 
That highte matrimoine or mariage, 
By al the comiseil and the baronage. 
And thus with alle blisse and melodye 
Hath Palamon y-wedded Emelye. 2240 

And God, that al this wyde world hath 

wroght, 
Sende him his love, that hath it dere 

a-boght. 
For now is Palamon in alle wele, 
Living in blisse, in richesse, and in hele; 
And Emelye him loveth so tendrely, 
And he hir serveth al-so gentilly, 
That never was ther no word hem bitwene 
Of jelousye, or any other tene. 
Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye; 
And God save al this faire companye ! — 

Amen. 2250 

Here is ended the Knightes Tale. 



THE PRIORESSES TALE 

Ther was in Asia, in a greet citee, 
Amonges Cristen folk, a Jewerye,i 
Sustened by a lord of that contree 
For foule usure and lucre of vilanye, 
Hateful to Crist and to his companye; 
And thurgh the strete men mighte ryde or 

wende, 
For it was free, and open at either ende. 

A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
Doun at the ferther ende, in which ther 

were 
Children an heep, y-comen of Cristen 

blood, 10 

That lerned in that scole yeer by yere 
Swich maner doctrine as men used there. 
This is to seyn, to singen and to rede, 
As smale children doon in hir childhede. 

Among thise children was a widwes sone, 
A litel clergeon,2 seven yeer of age. 
That day by day to scole was his wone,^ 
And eek also, wher-as he saugh th'image 
Of Cristes moder, hadde he in usage, 
As him was taught, to knele adoun and 
seye 20 

His Ave Marie f as he goth by the weye. 



1 The sharply 
town. 

8 clerk, cleric. 



Jewish quarter of a mediaeval 
8 custom. 



Thus hath this widwe hir litel sone y-taught 
Our blisful lady, Cristes moder dere. 
To worshipe ay, and he forgat it naught. 
For sely ^ child wol alday sone lere ; ^ 
But ay, whan I remembre on this matere, 
Seint Nicholas stant ever in my presence. 
For he so yong to Crist did reverence.^ 

This litel child, his litel book lerninge. 

As he sat in the scole at his prymer, 30 

He Alma redemptoris herde singe, 

As children lerned hir antiphoner ; ''^ 

And, as he dorste, he drough him ner and 

ner,^ 
And herkned ay the wordes and the note, 
Til he the firsts vers coude al by rote. 

Noght wiste he what this Latin was to seye. 
For he so yong and tendre was of age; 
But on a day his felaw gan he prej'e 
T'expounden him this song in his langage, 
Or telle him why this song was in usage; 40 
This preyde he him to construe and declare 
Ful ofte tyme upon his knowes ^ bare. 

His felaw, which that elder was than he, 
Answerde him thus : ' This song, I have 

herd seye, 
Was maked of our blisful lady free, 
Hir to salue,!*^ and eek hir for to preye 
To been our help and socour whan we deye. 
I can no more expounde in this matere; 
I lerne song, I can but smal grammere.' 

* And is this song maked in reverence 50 
Of Cristes moder ? ' seyde this innocent; 
' Now certes, I wol do my diligence 
To conne it al, er Cristemasse is went; 
Though that I for my prymer slial be 

shent,^^ 
And shal be beten thryes in an houre, 
I wol it conne, our lady for to honoure.' 

His felaw taughte him homward prively, 
Fro day to day, til he coude it by rote. 
And than he song it wel and boldely 
Fto word to word, acording with the note; 
Twyes a day it passed thurgh his throte, 61 
To scoleward and homward whan he wente; 
On Cristes moder set was his entente. 

< innocent, good. 5 learn. 

« As a young infant St. Nicholas could not suck on 
Wednesdays or Fridays. 

' book of responsive songs, anthems. 
8 nearer and nearer. » knees. 

" hail, greet. n scolded. 



132 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



1 



As I have seyd, tliurgh-out the Jewerye 
This litel child, as lie cam to and fro, 
Ful meiily than wolde he singe, and crye 

Alma redemptoris ever-mo. 

The swetnes hath his herte perced so 
Of Cristes modor, that, to hir to preye. 
He can nat stiute of singing by the weye. 70 

Onr firste fo, the serpent Sathanas, 

That liath in Jewes herte his waspes nest. 

Up swalji and seide, 'O Hebraik peple, 

alias ! 
Is this to yow a thing that is honest,^ 
That swich a boy shal walken as him lest 
In your despyt, and singe of swich sen- 
tence, 
Which is agayn your lawes reverence ? ' 

Fro thennes forth the Jewes han conspyred 
This innocent out of this world to chace; 
An homicyde ther-to han they hyred, 80 
That in an aley hadde a privee place; 
And as the child gan for-by for to pace. 
This cursed Jew him heute and heeld him 

faste, 
And kitte his throte, and in a pit him 

caste. 

1 seye that in a wardrobe ^ they him threwe 
Wher-as these Jewes purgen hir entraille. 
O cursed folk of Herodes al newe. 

What may your yvel entente yow availle ? 
Mordre wol out, certein, it wol nat faille, 
And namely ther th'onour of God shal 
sprede, 90 

The blood out cryeth on your cursed dede. 

* O martir, souded ^ to virginitee, 

Now maystou singen, folwing ever in oon 
The whyte lamb celestial,' quod she, 

* Of which the grete evangelist, seint John, 
In Pathmos wroot, which seith that they 

that goon 
Biforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe, 
That never, fleshly, wommentheyneknewe.' 

This povre widwe awaiteth al that night 
After hir litel child, but he cam noght; 100 
For which, as sone as it was dayes light. 
With face pale of drede and bisy thoght. 
She bath at scole and elles-wher him soght, 
Til finally she gan so fer espye 
That he last seyn was in the Jewerye. 



1 swelled. 
3 privy. 



2 decent. 
* devoted. 



With modres pitee in hir brest enclosed, 
She gooth, as she were half out of hir 

minde, 
To every place wher she hath supposed 
By lyklihede hir litel child to finde; 109 

And ever on Cristes moder meke andkinde 
She cryde, and atte laste thus she wroghte, 
Among the cursed Jewes she him soghte. 

She frayneth ^ and she preyeth pitously 
To every Jew that dwelte in thilke place, 
To telle hir, if hir child wente oght for-by. 
They seyde, ' nay ' ; but Jesu, of his grace, 
Yaf in hir thought, inwith a litel space, 
That in that place after hir sone she cryde, 
Wher he was casten in a pit bisyde. 

O grete God, that parfournest thy laude 120 
By mouth of innocents, lo beer thy might ! 
This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude, 
And eek of martirdom the ruby bright, 
Ther he with throte y-corveu ^ lay upright,"^ 
He ^ Alma redemptoris ' gan to singe 
So loude, that al the place gan to ringe. 

The Cristen folk, that thurgh the strete 

wente, 
In comen, for to won d re up-on this thing. 
And hastily they for the provost sente; 
He cam anon with-outen tarying, 130 

And herieth ^ Crist that is of heven king, 
And eek his moder, honour of mankinde. 
And after that, the Jewes leet he binde. 

This child with pitous lamentacioun 
Up-taken was, singing his song alway; 
And with honour of greet processioun 
They carien him un-to the nexte abbay. 
His moder swowning by the here lay; 
Unnethe ^ might the peple that was there 
This newe Rachel bringe fro his here. 140 

With torment and with shamf ul deth echon 
This provost dooth thise Jewes for to 

sterve ^^ 
That of this mordre wiste, and that anon; 
He nolde no swich cursednesse observe. ^^ 
Yvel shal have that yvel wol deserve. 
Therfor with wilde hors^^ he dide hem 

drawe,^^ 
And after that he heng hem by the lawe. 



a inquires. 
7 on his back. 
9 Scarcely. 
11 countenance. 



8 carved, cut. 

8 praiseth. 
10 die. 
12 horses. 



13 i.e. to the place of execution. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



^33 



Up-on his bere ay lyth this innocent 
Biforn the chief auter, whyl masse laste, 
And after that, the abbot with his cov- 

ent 150 

Han sped hem for to burien him ful faste; 
And whan they holy water on him caste, 
Yet spak this child, whan spreynd^ was 

holy water, 
And song — ' A Ima redemptoris mater ! ' 

'! This abbot, whicl> that was an holy man 
I As monkes been, or elles oghteu be. 

This yonge child to conjure he bigan, 
I And seyde, * O dere child, I halse ^ thee, 

In vertu of the holy Trinitee, 

Tel me what is thy cause for to singe, 160 
, Sith that thy throte is cut, to my sem- 



inge 



9' 



* My throte is cut un-to my nekke-boon,' 
Seyde this child, ' and, as by wey of kinde, 
I sholde have deyed, ye, longe tyme agoon; 
But Jesu Crist, as ye in bokes finde, 
Wil that his glorie laste and be in minde; 
And, for the worship of his moder dere. 
Yet may I singe " Alma " loude and clere. 

This welle of mercy, Cristes moder swete, 
I lovede alwey, as after my conninge;^ 170 
And whan that I my lyf sholde forlete,^ 
To me she cam, and bad me for to singe 
This antem verraily in my deyinge, 
As ye ban herd; and, whan that I had 

songe. 
Me thoughte, she leyde a greyn up-on my 

tonge. 

Wherfor I singe, and singe I moot certeyn 
In honour of that blisful may den free. 
Til fro my tonge of -taken is the greyn. 
And afterward thus seyde she to me, 
" My litel child, now wol I fecche thee 180 
Whan that the greyn is fro thy tonge 

y-take ; 
Be nat agast, I wol thee nat forsake." ' 

This holy monk, this abbot, him mene I, 
Him tonge out-caughte, and took a-wey the 

greyn, 
And he yaf up the goost ful softely. 
And whan this abbot had this wonder 

seyn, 
His salte teres trikled doun as reyn, 



1 sprinkled. 

» as well as I knew how. 



2 conjure. 
* forsake. 



And gruf ^ he fil al plat up-on the grounde, 
And stille he lay as he had been y-bounde. 

The covent eek lay on the pavement 190 
Weping, and herieu^ Cristes moder dere; 
And after that they ryse, and forth ben 

went, 
And toke away this martir fro his bere, 
And in a tombe of marbul-stones clere 
Enclosen they his litel body swete; 
Ther he is now, God leve us for to mete. 

O yonge Hugh of Lincoln, slayn also 

With cursed Jewes, as it is notable. 

For it nis but a litel whyle ago; 

Preye eek for us, we sinful folk unstable, 200 

That, of his mercy, God so merciable 

On us his grete mercy multiplye. 

For reverence of his moder Marye. Amen. 

Here is ended the Prioresses Tale, 



PROLOGUE TO SIR THOPAS 

Bihold the murye wordes of the Host to Chaucer 

Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man 
As sobre was, that wonder was to see, 
Til that our hoste japen ' tho bigan, 
And than at erst he looked up-on me, 
And seyde thus, ' What man artow ? ' quod 
he; 

* Thou lokest as thou woldest finde an hare, 
For ever up-on the ground I see thee stare. 

Approche neer, and loke up merily. 

Now war yow, sirs, and lat this man have 

place; 
He in the waast is shape as wel as I; 10 
This were a popet m an arm t'enbrace 
For any womman, smal and fair of face. 
He semeth elvish by his contenaunce. 
For un-to no wight dooth he daliaunce. 

Sey now sorawhat, sin other folk ban sayd; 
Tel us a tale of mirthe, and that anoon; ' — 

* Hoste,' quod I, ' ne beth nat yvel apayd,^ 
For other tale certes can I noon. 

But of a ryme I lerned longe agoon.' 

* Ye, that is good,' quod he; ' now shul we 

here 20 

Sora deyntee thing, me thinketh by his 
chere.' 

5 groveling, i.e. upon his face. ^ praise. 

' jest. 8 be not ill-pleased. 



134 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



SIR THOPAS 

Here biginneth Chancers Tale of Thopas 

LiSTETH, lordes, in good entent, 
And I wol telle venayment 

Of mirthe and of solas; 
Al of a knyght was fair and gent 
In bataille and in tourneymeut, 

His name was sir Thopas. 

Y-born he was in fer contree, 
In Flaundres, al biyonde the see, 

At Popering, in the place; 
His fader was a man ful free, 
And lord he was of that contree, 

As it was Goddes grace 

Sir Thopas wex ^ a doghty swayn, 
Whyt was his face as payndemayn,^ 

His lippes rede as rose; 
His rode ^ is lyk scarlet in grayn,^ 
And I yow telle in good certayn, 

He hadde a semely nose. 

His heer, his herd was lyk saffroun. 
That to his girdle raughte ^ adoun ; 

His shoon of Cordewane.^ 
Of Brngges ' were his hosen broun, 
His robe was of ciclatonn,^ 

That coste many a jane.® 

He coude ^° hunte at wilde deer, 
And ryde an hanking for riveer,ii 

With grey goshauk on honde; 
Ther-to he was a good archeer, 
Of wrastling was ther noon his peer, 

Ther any ram shal stonde.^ 

Ful many a mayde, bright in bour. 
They moorne for him, paramour, 

Whan hem were bet '^ to slepe; 
But he was chast and no lechour, 
And sweet as is the bremble-flour 

That bereth the rede hepe.^^ 

And so bifel up-on a day, 
For sothe, as I yow telle may, 
Sir Thopas wolde out ryde; 



30 



1 waxed, grew. 
s complexion. 

6 reached. 

7 From Bruges. 
9 Genoese coin. 

11 Simply "hawking." 



2 finest bread. 
4 well-dyed. 
6 Spanish leather. 
8 scarlet or any rich fabric. 
10 knew how. 
To go to the river " is to go 



hawking ; " to go to the wood " is to go hunting. 

12 A ram was the usual prize. 

13 better. 1* hips. 



He worth upon ^^ his stede gray, 40 

And in his honde a launcegay,^^ 
A long swerd by his syde. 

He priketh thurgh a fair forest, 
Ther-inne is many a wilde best. 

Ye, bothe bukke and hare; 
And, as he priketh north and est, 
I telle it yow, him hadde almest 

Bitid a sory care. 

Ther springen herbes grete and smale, 
The lycorys and cetewale,!"^ 50 

And many a clowe-gilof re ; ^^ 
And notemuge to putte in ale, 
Whether it be moyste ^^ or stale. 

Or for to leye in cofre. 

The briddes singe, it is no nay ,20 
The sparhauk and the papejay. 

That joye it was to here; 
The thrustelcok made eek his lay, 
The wodedowve upon the spray 

She sang ful loude and clere. 60 

Sir Thopas fil in love-longinge 

Al whan he herde the thrustel singe. 

And priked ^i as he were wood.^ 
His faire stede in his prikinge 
So swatters that men mighte him wringe; 

His sydes were al blood. 

Sir Thopas eek so wery was 
For prikinge on the softe gras. 

So fiers was his corage, 
That doun he leyde him in that plas 70 

To make his stede som solas. 

And yaf him good forage. 

* O seinte Marie, henedicite ! 
What eyleth this love at me ^4 

To binde me so sore ? 
Me dremed al this night, pardee. 
An elf -queen shal my lemman be. 

And slepe under my gore.^^ 

An elf-queen wol I love, y-wis, 
For in this world no womman is 80 

Worthy to be my make ^^ 
In tonne ; 

15 mounted. is hunting-spear. 

17 the herb zedoary. is clove. 

19 musty, new. 20 there 's no denying it. 

21 spurred. 22 mad. 23 sweated. 

24 What has this love against me? 

25 cloak. 26 mate. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



135 



AUe othere wommen I forsake, 
And to an elf-queen I me take 
By dale and eek by doune ! ' 

In-to his sadel he clamb anoon, 
And priketh over style and stoon 

An elf-queen for t'espye, 
Til he so longe had riden and goon 
That he foud, in a privee woon,i 

The contree of Fairye 
&o wilde ; 
For in that contree was ther noon 
That to him dorste ryde or goon, 

Neither wyf ne childe. 

Til that ther cam a greet geaunt, 
His name was sir Olifaunt, 

A perilous man of dede. 
He seyde, * Child, by Termagaunt, 
But-if thou prike out of myn haunt, 

Anon I slee thy stede 

With mace. 
Heer is the queen of Fayerye, 
With harpe and pype and simphonye ^ 

Dwelling in this place.' 

The child seyde, * Al-so mote I thee,^ 
Tomorwe wol I mete thee 

Whan I have myn armoure; 
And yet I hope, par ma fay, 
That thou shalt with this launcegay 

Abyen it ful soure; "^ 

Thy mawe 
Shal I percen, if I may, 
Er it be fully pryme of day, 

For heer thou shalt be slawe.* 

Sir Thopas drow abak ful faste ; 
This geaiant at him stones caste 

Out of a fel staf-slinge; 
But faire escapeth child Thopas, 
And al it was thurgh Goddes gras, 

And thurgh his fair beringe. 

Yet listeth, lordes, to my tale 
Merier than the nightingale. 

For now I wol yow roune ^ 
How sir Thopas with sydes smale,^ 
Priking over hil and dale, 

Is come agayn to toune. 

His merie men comanded he 
To make him bothe game and glee, 
For nedes moste he fighte 



1 retreat. 2 a stringed instrument. 
« sourly, i.e. dearly, pay for it. s tell. 



s prosper. 
6 slini waist. 



With a geaunt with hevedes ^ three, 
For paramour and jolitee 

Of oon that shoon ful brighte. 

' Do come,' he seyde, ' my minstrales, 
And gestours, for to tellen tales 

Anon in myn arminge; 
Of romances that been royales, 
Of popes and of cardinales. 

And eek of love-lykinge.' 

They f ette ^ him first the swete wyn, 140 
And mede eek in a maselyn,^ 

And royal spicerye 
Of gingebreed that was ful fyn, 
And lycorys, and eek comyn,!*^ 

With sugre that is so trye.^^ 

He dide next his whyte lere '^ 
Of clooth of lake ^^ fyn and clere 

A breech and eek a sherte; 
And next his sherte an aketoun,^^ 
And over that an habergeoun ^^ 150 

For 1^ percinge of his herte ; 

And over that a fyn hauberk, ^'^ 
Was al y-wroght of Jewes werk, 

Ful strong it was of plate; 
And over that his cote-armour 
As whyt as is a lily-flour. 

In which he wol debate. ^^ 

His sheeld was al of gold so reed, 
And ther-in was a bores heed, 

A charbocle bisyde; 160 

And there he swoor, on ale and breed, 
How that the geaunt shal be deed, 

Bityde what bityde ! 

His jambeux ^^ were of quirboilly,20 
His swerdes shethe of yvory. 

His helm of laton -^ bright; 
His sadel was of rewel-boon,22 
His brydel as the sonne shoon, 

Or as the mone light. 

His spere was of fyn ciprees, 170 

Tliat bodeth werre, and no-thing pees. 
The heed ful sharpe y-grounde; 

^ heads. » fetched. 9 mazer, or maple-bowl. 

10 cummin. " delicious. 12 flesh. is linen. 
1^ padded doublet. is coat-of-mail. 

1* against, to prevent. 

" Hauberk is usually coat-of-mail, but here it is, ap- 
parently, plate-armour. Thopas was well protected ! 
18 fight. 19 shin-pieces. 

20 hard leather, boiled and moulded. 

21 a composite metal. 22 probably ivory. 



136 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



His stede was al dappel-gray, 
It gooth an ambel in the way 

Ful softely and rounde 

In londe. 
Lo, lordes myne, heer is a fit ! 
If ye wol any more of it, 

To telle it wol I fonde. 

[ The Second Fit.] 

Now hold your mouth, par chariteej 180 

Bothe knight and lady free, 

And herkneth to my spelle; 
Of bataille and of chivalry, 
And of ladyes love-drury ^ 

Anon I wol yow telle. 

Men speke of romances of prys, 
Of Horn child and of Ypotys, 

Of Bevis and sir Gy, 
Of sir Libeux and Pleyn-damour; 
But sir Thopas, he bereth the flour 190 

Of royal chivalry. 

His gode stede al he bistrood, 
And forth upon his wey he glood ^ 

As sparkle out of the bronde; 
Up-on his crest he bar a tour, 
And ther-in stiked a lily-flour. 

God shilde his cors fro shonde ! ^ 

And for he was a knight auntrous,^ 
He nolde slepen in non hous. 

But liggen in his hode; 200 

His brighte helm was his wonger,^ 
And by him baiteth his dextrer ^ 

Of herbes fyne and gode. 

Him-self drank water of the wel, 
As did the knight sir Percivel, 

So worthy under wede. 
Til on a day 

Here the Host sttnteth Chaucer of his Tale of 
Thofas. 



THE NONNE PREESTES TALE 

Here biginneth the Nonne Preestes Tale of the 
Cok and Hen., Chauntecleer and Pertelote 

A POVRE widwe, somdel stope"^ in age. 
Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage, 
Bisyde a grove, stonding in a dale. 
This widwe, of which 1 telle yow my tale, 



2 glided. 
6 pillow. 



3 harm, 
war-horse. 



4 adventurous, 
7 advanced. 



Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, 
In pacieuce ladde a ful simple lyf. 
For litel was hir catel^ and hir rente; 
By housbondrye ^ of such as God hir sente 
She fond 1° hir-self, and eek hir doghtren 

two. 
Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, 10 
Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte 

Malle. 
Ful sooty was hir hour, and eek hir halle, 
In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. 
Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. 
No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir 

throte ; 
Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. 
Repleccioun ne made hir never syk; 
Attempree ^^ dyete was al her phisyk, 
And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. 
The goute lette hir no-thing ^^ for to daunce, 
N'apoplexye shente ^^ nat hir heed; 21 

No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; 
Hir bord was served most with whyt and 

blak, 
Milk and broun breed, in which she fond 

no lak, 
Seynd^^ bacoun, and somtyme an ey or 

tweye, 
For she was as it were a raaner deye.^^ 
A yerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute 
With stikkes, and a drye dich with-oute. 
In which she hadde a cok, hight Chaunte- 
cleer. 
In al the land of crowing nas his peer; 30 
His vois was merier than the mery orgon ^^ 
On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon; 
Wel sikerer ^'^ was his crowing in his logge, 
Thau is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge. 
By nature knew he ech ascencioun 
Of equinoxial in thilke toun; 
For whan degrees fiftene were ascended, 
Thanne crew he that it mighte nat ben 

amended. 
His comb was redder than the fyn coral, 
And batailed as it were a castel-wal. 40 

His bile was blak, and as the jeet it shoon; 
Lyk asur were his legges, and his toon; 
His nayles whytter than the lilie flour, 
And lyk the burned gold was his colour. 
This gentil cok hadde in his governaunce 
Severe hennes, for to doon al his plesaunce, 
Whiche were his snstres and his paramours, 
And wonder lyk to him, as of colours. 

8 chattels. » economy. i" provided for. 

11 Temperate. 12 hindered her not at all. is hurt. 
14 Singed. i5 farming or dairy woman. ^^ organ 
pipes (plural). i? more accurate. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



137 



Of whiche the faireste hewed on hir throte 
Was cleped faire damoysele Pertelote. 50 
Curteys she was, discreet, and debonaire, 
And compaignable, and bar hir-self so faire, 
Sin thilke day that she was seven night old, 
That trewely she hath the herte in hold 
Of Chauntecleer loken in every lith; ^ 
He loved hir so, that wel was him therwith. 
But such a joye was it to here hem singe. 
Whan that the brj^hte sonne gan to springe. 
In swete accord, * My lief is faren in londe.' 
For thilke tyme, as I have understonde, 60 
Bestes and briddes conde speke and singe. 

And so bifel, that in a daweninge, 
As Chauntecleer among his wyves alle 
Sat on his perche, that was in the halle, 
And next him sat this faire Pertelote, 
This Chauntecleer gan gronen in his throte, 
As man that in his dreem is drecched^ 

sore. 
And whan that Pertelote thus herde him 

rore. 
She was agast, and seyde, ' O herte dere, 
What eyleth vow, to grone in this man- 

ere ? 70 

Ye been a verray sleper, fy for shame ! ' 
And he answerde and seyde thus, ' Madame, 
I pray yow, that ye take it nat a-grief : 
By God, me mette ^ I was in swich mes- 

chief 
Right now, that yet myn herte is sore 

afright. 
Now God,' quod he, ' my swevene recche ^ 

aright. 
And keep my body out of foul prisoun ! 
Me mette, how that I romed up and doun 
Withinne our yerde, wher-as I saugh a 

beste, 
Was lyk an hound, and wolde han maad 

areste 80 

Upon my body, and wolde han had me 

deed. 
His colour was bitwixe yelvve and reed; 
And tipped was his tail, and bothe his eres, 
With blak, unlyk the remenant of his 

heres; 
His snowte smal, with glowinge eyen 

tweye. 
Yet of his look for fere almost I deye; 
This caused me my groning, doutelees.' 
* Avoy ! ' quod she, * fy on yow, herte- 

lees ! 

1 limb. 2 troubled, 

s Impersonal verb — "I dreamed." 
* interpret my dream. 



Alias ! ' quod she, ' for, by that God above. 
Now han ye lost myn herte and al my 

love ; 90 

I can not love a coward, by my feith. 
For certes, what so any womman seith, 
We alle desyren, if it mighte be. 
To han housbondes hardy, wyse, and free, 
And secree, and no nigard, ne no fool, 
Ne him that is agast of every tool,^ 
Ne noon avauntour,^ by that God above ! 
How dorste ye seyn for shame unto your 

love, 
That any thing mighte make yow aferd ? 
Have ye no maunes herte, and han a 

herd ? 100 

Alias ! and conne ye been agast of swe- 

venis ? 
No-thing, God wot, but vanitee, in sweven 

is. 
Swevenes engendren of repleeciouns,'^ 
And ofte of fume,^ and of complecciouns^ 
Whan humours been to habundant in a 

wight. 
Certes this dreem, which ye han met to- 
night, 
Cometh of tlie grete superfluitee 
Of youre rede colera,^" pardee. 
Which causeth folk to dreden in here 

dremes 
Of arwes, and of fyr with rede lemes ; ^^ no 
Of grete bestes, that they wol hem byte. 
Of C()ntek,i2^,i(^ of whelpes grete and lyte; 
Right as the humour of malencolye 
Causfth ful many a man, in sleep, to crye, 
For fere of blake beres, or boles blake. 
Or elles, blake develes wole hem take. 
Of othere humours coude I telle also. 
That vvoiken many a man in sleep ful wo; 
But I wol passe as lightly as I can. 

Lo Catoun,^^ which that was so wys a 

man, 120 

Seyde he nat thias, " Ne do no f ors ^^ of 

dremes " ? 
Now, sire,' quod she, * whan we flee fro the 

hemes, 
For Goddes love, as tak som laxatyf ; 
Up peril of my soule, and of my lyf, 
I counseille yow the beste, I wol nat lye, 
That bothe of colere and of malencolye 

5 weapon. « boaster. ' repletions. 

8 the vapors from a disordered stomach. 

9 dispositions, mixtures of humors. 

10 red bile. Choler was one of the four "humoura," 
the others being blood, black bile, and phlegm. 

11 flames. 12 strife. 
13 The mediaeval Dionysius Cato. 

1* Pay no attention. 



138 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Ye purge yow; and for ye shul uat tarie, 
Though in this toiin is nooD apotecarie, 
I shal my self to herbes techen yow, 
That shul ben for your hele, and for your 

prow;i 130 

And in our yerd tho herbes shal I finde, 
The whiche hau of hir propretee, by kiude, 
To purgen yow binethe, and eek above. 
Forget not tliis, for Goddes owene love ! 
Ye been ful colerik of compleccioun. 
Ware the sonue in his ascencioun 
Ne fynde yow nat repleet of humours 

bote ; 
And if it do, I dar wel leye a grote, 
That ye shul have a fevere terciane, 
Or an agu, that may be youre bane. 140 
A day or two ye shul have digestyves 
Of wormes, er ye take your laxatyves, 
Of laariol,^ centaure,^ and fumetere,^ 
Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there, 
Of catapuce,^ or of gaytres ^ beryis, 
Of erbe yve,''' growing in our yerd, that 

mery is; 
Pekke hem up right as they growe, and ete 

hem in. 
Be mery, housbond, for your fader kin ! 
Dredeth no dreem; I can say yow namore.' 
* Madame,' quod he, ' graunt mercy ^ of 

your lore. 150 

But nathelees, as touching daun Catoun, 
That hath of wisdom such a greet renoun, 
Though that he bad no dremes for to drede, 
By God, men may in olde bokes rede 
Of many a man, more of auctoritee 
Than ever Catoun was, so mote I thee, 
That al the revers seyn of his sentence, 
And han wel founden by experience, 
That dremes ben significaciouns, 
As wel of joye as tribulaciouns 160 

That folk enduren in this lyf present. 
Ther nedeth make of this noon argument; 
The verray preve sheweth it in dede. 
Oon of the gretteste auctours ^ that men 

rede 
Seith thus, that whylom two felawes wente 
On pilgrimage, in a ful good entente; 
And happed so, thay come into a toun, 
Wher-as ther was swich congregacioun 
Of peple, and eek so streit 1° of herbergage 
That they ne founde as muche as o cotage 
In which they bothe mighte y-logged be. 171 
Wherfor thay mosten, of necessitee, 

1 profit. 2 laurel. ' centaury. < fumitory. 
B lesser spurge. 6 dogwood, or possibly buckthorn. 

7 ground-pine. 8 many thanks. ^ Perhaps 

Cicero in De Divinatione, I, 27. 1° limited. 



As for that night, departen corapaignye; 
And ech of hem goth to his hostelrye. 
And took his logging as it wolde falle. 
That oon of hem was logged in a stalle, 
Fer in a yerd, with oxen of the plough; 
That other man was logged wel y-nough, 
As was his aventure, or his fortune, 
That us governeth alle as in commune. 180 

And so bifel, that, longe er it were day, 
This man mette in his bed, ther-as he lay. 
How that his felawe gan up-on him calle, 
And seyde, " Alias ! for in an oxes stalle 
This night I shal be mordred ther I lye. 
Now help me, dere brother, er I dye; 
In alle haste com to me," he sayde. 
This man out of his sleep for fere abrayde ; ^^ 
But whan that he was wakned of his sleep, 
He turned him, and took of this no keep; 190 
Him thoughte his dreem nas but a vanitee. 
Thus twyes in his sleping dremed he. 
And atte thridde tynie yet his felawe 
Cam, as him thoughte, and seide, " I am 

now si a we; 
Bihold my blody woundes, depe and wyde! 
Arys up erly in the morwe-tyde, 
And at the west gate of the toun," quod he, 
" A carte ful of dong ther shaltow see, 
In which my body is hid ful prively; 
Do thilke carte aresten boldely. 200 

My gold caused my mordre, sooth to sayn; " 
And tolde him every poynt how he was 

slayn. 
With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 
And truste wel, his dreem he fond ful 

trewe; 
For on the morwe, as sone as it was day. 
To his felawes in he took the way; 
And whan that he cam to this oxes stalle. 
After his felawe he bigan to calle. 
The hostiler answered him anon. 
And seyde, " Sire, your felawe is agon; 210 
As sone as day he wente out of the toun." 
This man gan fallen in suspecioun, 
Remembring on his dremes that he mette, 
And forth he goth, no lenger wolde he 

lette,i2 
Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond 
A dong-carte, as it were to donge lond. 
That was arrayed in the same wyse 
As ye han herd the dede man devyse; 
And with an hardy herte he gan to crye 
Vengeaunce and justice of this felonye: — 220 
" My felawe mordred is this same night. 
And in this carte he lyth gapinge upright. 
11 started. 12 delay. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



139 



I crye out on the ministres," quod he, 
" That sholden kepe and reulen this citee ; 
Harrow ! alias ! her lyth my felawe slayn ! " 
What sholde I more un-to this tale sayn ? 
The peple out-sterte, and caste the cart to 

grounde, 
And in the middel of the dong they founde 
The dede man, that mordred was al newe. 
O blisful God, ^hat art so just and 

trewe ! 230 

Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway ! 
Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. 
Mordre is so wlatsom ^ and abhominable 
To God, that is so just and resonable, 
That he ne wol nat suffre it heled ^ be ; 
Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or three, 
Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun. 
And right anoou, ministres of that toun 
Han hent the carter, and so sore him pyned,^ 
Aud eek the hostiler so sore engyned,^ 240 
That thay biknevve ° hir wikkednesse anoon, 
And were an-hanged by the nekke-boon. 
Here may men seen that dremes been to 

drede. 
And certes in the same book I rede, 
Right in the nexte chapitre after this, 
(I gabbe^ nat, so have I joye or blis,) 
Two men that wolde ban passed over see, 
For certeyn cause, in-to a fer contree, 
If that the wind ne hadde been contrairie. 
That made hem in a citee for to tarie, 25c 
That stood ful mery upon an haven-syde. 
But on a day, ageyn the even-tyde. 
The wind gan chaunge, and blew right as 

hem leste. 
Jolif and glad they wente un-to hir reste, 
And casten hem " ful erly for to saille ; 
But to that 00 man fil a greet mervaille. 
That oon of hem, in sleping as he lay, 
Him mette a wonder dreem, agayn the day; 
Him thonghte a man stood by his beddes 

syde, 
And him comaunded that he sholde 

abyde, 260 

And seyde him thus, *' If thou to-morwe 

wende, 
Thou shalt be dreynt;^ my tale is at an 

ende." 
He wook, and tolde his felawe what he 

mette, 
And preyde him his viage for to lette ; ^ 
As for that day, he preyde him to abj'de. 
His felawe, that lay by his beddes syde, 

1 disgusting. 2 concealed. 3 tortured. < racked. 
5 confessed. ^ lie. ^ planned, s di'owned, * delay. 



Gan for to laughe, and scorned him ful f aste. 
" No dreem," quod he, " may so myn herte 

agaste. 
That I wol lette for to do my thinges. 
I sette not a straw by thy dreminges, 270 
For swevenes been but vanitees and japes. 
Men dreme al-day of owles or of apes, 
And eek of many a mase^o ther withal; 
Men dreme of thing that never was ne shal. 
But sitli I see that thou wolt heer abyde, 
And thus for-sleuthen ^^ wilfully thy tyde, 
God wat it reweth me;^^ ^^^j have good 

day." 
And thus he took his leve, and wente his 

way. 
But er that he hadde halfe his cours y- 

seyled, 
Noot I nat why, ne what mischaunce it 

eyled, 2S0 

But casuelly the shippes botme rente. 
And ship and man under the water wente 
In sighte of othere shippes it byside. 
That with hem seyled at the same tyde. 
And therefor, faire Pertelote so dere, 
By swiche ensamples olde maistow lere, 
That no man sholde been to recchelees 
Of dremes, for I sey thee, doutelees, 
That many a dreem ful sore is for to 

drede. 289 

Lo, in the lyf of seint Kenelni, I rede. 
That was Kennlphus sone, the noble king 
Of Mercenrike,^^ how Kenelm mette a 

thing; 
A lyte er he was mordred, on a day, 
His mordre in his avisioun he say. 
His norice him expouned every del 
His sweven, and bad him for to kepe him 

wel 
For traisoun ; but he nas but seven yeer old, 
And the rf ore litel tale hath he told 
Of any dreem, so holy was his herte. 
By God, I hadde lever than my sherte 300 
That ye had rad his legende, as have I. 
Dame Pertelote, I sey yow trewely, 
Macrobeus, that writ th'avisioun 
In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun,^^ 
AfPermeth dremes, and seith that they been 
Warning of thinges that men after seen. 

And forther-more, I pray yow loketh wel 
In the olde testament, of Daniel, 
If he held dremes any vanitee. 
Reed eek of Joseph, and ther shul ye see 310 
10 astounding thing. n idle away. 12 I lament. 
13 Mercia, in central England. 

1^ Macrobius's commentary on Cicero's Dream 0/ 
Scipio. 



140 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Wherdreines ben somtyme (I seynat alle) 
Warning of thiuges that shul after falls. 
Loke of Egipt the king, daun 1 Pharao, 
His bakere and his boteler also, 
Wher they ne felte noon effect in dremes. 
Who-so wol seken actes of sondry remes 2 
May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 

Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde king, 
Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree. 
Which signified he sholde anhanged be ? 320 
Lo heer Andromacha, Ectores wyf, 
That day that Ector sholde lese his lyf, 
She dremed on the same night biforn, 
How that the lyf of Ector sholde be lorn 
If thilke day he wente in-to bataille; 
She warned him, but it mighte nat availle; 
He wente for to fighte nathelees, 
But he was slayn anoon of Achilles. 
But thilke tale is al to long to telle, 
And eek it is ny day, I may nat dwelle. 330 
Shortly I seye, as for conclusioun, 
That I shal han of this avisioun 
Adversitee; and I seye forther-more. 
That I ne telle of laxatyves no store,^ 
For they ben venimons, I woot it wel; 
I hem defye, I lo%'e hem never a del. 

Kow let us speke of mirthe, and stinte 
al this. 
Madame Pertelote, so have I blis, 
Of o thing God hath sent me large grace; 
For whan I see the beautee of your face, 340 
Ye ben so scarlet-reed about your yen, 
It maketh al my drede for to dyen; 
For, also siker as In principio, 
Mulier est hominis cojifusio. 
Madame, the sentence of this Latin is — 
Womman is maunes joye and al his blis. 
For whan I fele a-night your softe syde, 
Al-be-it that I may nat on you ryde. 
For that our perche is maad so narwe, alas ! 
I am so ful of joye and of solas 350 

That I defye bothe sweven and dreem.' 
And with that word he fley doun fro the 

beem, 
For it was day, and eek his hennes alle; 
And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle. 
For he had f ounde a corn, lay in the yerd. 
Royal he was, he was namore aferd; 
He fethered Pertelote twenty tyme, 
And trad as ofte, er that it was pryme. 
He loketh as it were a grim leoun; 
And on his toos he rometh up and doun, 360 
Him deyned not to sette his foot to grounde. 
He chukketh, whan he hath a corn y-f ounde, 

1 lord, dominiis. 2 realms. » get no store by. 



And to him rennen thanne his wyves alle. 
Thus royal, as a prince is in his halle, 
Leve I this Chauntecleer in his pasture; 
And after wol I telle his aventure. 

Whan that the month in which the world 

bigan. 
That highte March, whan God first maked 

man, 4 
Was complet, and [y]-passed were also, 
Sin March bigan, thritty dayes and two, 370 
Bifel that Chauntecleer, in al his pryde, 
His seven wyves walking by his syde, 
Caste up his eyen to the brighte sonne, 
That in the signe of Taurus hadde y-ronne 
Twenty degrees and con, and somwhat 

more; 
And knew by kynde,^ and by noon other 

lore, 
That it was pryme,^ and crew with blisful 

stevene. 
* The Sonne,' he sayde, ' is clomben up on 

hevene 
Fourty degrees and oon, and more, y-wis. 
Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, 380 
Herkneth thise blisful briddes how they 

singe, 
And see the fresshe floures how they 

springe ; 
Ful is myn herte of revel and solas.' 
But sodeinly him fil a sorweful cas; 
For ever the latter ende of joye is wo. 
God woot that worldly joye is sone ago; 
And if a rethor "^ coude f aire endy te. 
He in a cronique saufly mighte it wryte, 
As for a sovereyn notabilitee. 
Now every wys man, lat him herkne me; 390 
This storie is al-so trewe, I imdertake, 
As is the book of Launcelot de Lake,^ 
That wommen holde in ful gret reverence. 
Now will I torne agayn to my sentence. 

A col-fox,^ ful of sly iniquitee. 
That in the grove hadde woned yeres three, 
By heigh imaginacioun forn-cast, 
The same night thurgh-out the heggesbrast "^^ 
Into the yerd, ther Chauntecleer the faire 
Was wont, and eek his wyves, to repaire; 
And in a bed of wortes ^^ stille he lay, 401 
Til it was passed undern ^- of the day, 
Wayting his tyme on Chauntecleer to falle, 
As gladly doon thise homicydes alle, 

4 So they called March the first month of the year. 

5 nature. ^ nine a.m. ^ a master of eloquence. 
s A long-winded prose romance, of which Malory 

made much use. 

9 black or black-tipped fox. 10 burst. 

u vegetables. " middle of the morning. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



141 



That in awayt liggen to mordre men. 

O false mordrer, lurking in thy den ! 

O newe Scariot,^ uewe Genilou ! ^ 

False dissimilour, O Greek Sinon, 

That broghtest Troye al outrely ^ to sorwe ! 

Chaunteeleer, acursed be that morwe, 410 
That thou into that yerd flough fro the 

hemes ! 
Thou were f ul wel ^-warned by thy dremes, 
That thilke day was perilous to thee. 
But what that God forwoot mot nedes be, 
After the opinioim of certeyn clerkis. 
Witnesse on him, that any perfit clerk is, 
That in scole is gret altercacioun 
In this matere, and greet disputisoun, 
And hath ben of an hundred thousand 

men. 
But I ne can not bulte it to the bren,* 420 
As can the holy doctour Augustyn, 
Or Boece,'5 or the bishop Bradwardyn,^ 
Whether that Goddes worthy forwiting 
Streyneth ■ me nedely for to doon a thing, 
(Nedely clepe I simple necessitee); 
Or elles, if free choys be graunted me 
To do that same thing, or do it noght, 
Though God forwoot it, er that it was 

wroght; 
Or if his witing streyneth nevere a del 
But by necessitee condicionel. 430 

1 wol not han to do of swich matere; 
My tale is of a cok, as ye may here, 
That took his counseil of his wyf, with 

sorwe, 
To walken in the yerd upon that morwe 
That he had met the dreem, that I yow 

tolde. 
Wommennes counseil s been ful ofte colde;^ 
Wommannes counseil broghte us first to wo. 
And made Adam fro paradys to go, 
Ther-as he was ful mery, and wel at ese. — 
But for I noot to whom it mighte displese 
If I counseil of wommen wolde blame, 441 
Passe over, for 1 seyde it in my game. 
Rede auctours, wher they trete of swich 

matere, 
And what thay seyn of wommen ye may 

here. 
Thise been the cokkes wordes, and nat 

myne; 
I can noon harm of no womman di-vyne. — 

Faire in the sond, to bathe hir merily, 
Lyth Pertelote, and alle hir sustres by, 
1 Judas Iscariot. 2 Roland's betrayer. 3 entirely- 
4 sift it thorouglily. 5 Boethiiis. 

« English theologian, d. 1349. 
'7 constraineth. « disastrous, — a proverb. 



Agayn the sonne; and Chaunteeleer so free 
Song merier t)ian the mermayde in the 

see ; 450 

For Phisiologus "^ seith sikerly, 
How that they singen wel and merily. 
Aud so bifel that, as he caste his ye, 
Among the wortes, on a boterflye, 
He was war of this fox that lay ful lowe. 
No-thing ne liste him thanne for to crowe. 
But cryde anon, ' cok, cok,' and up he sterte. 
As man that was afiPra3'ed in his herte. 
For naturelly a beest desyreth flee 
Fro his contrarie, if he may it see, 460 

Though he never erst had seyu it with 

his ye. 
This Chaunteeleer, whan he gan him 

espye, 
He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon 
Seyde, ' Gentil sire, alias ! wher wol ye gon ? 
Be ye afPrayed of me that am your freeud ? 
Now certes, I were worse than a feend, 
If I to yow wolde harm or vileinye. 
I am nat come your counseil for t'espye; 
But trewely, the cause of my cominge 
Was only for to herkne how that ye singe. 
For trewely ye have as mery a stevene 471 
As eny aungel hath, that is in hevene; 
Therwith ye han in musik more felinge 
Than hadde Boece, or any that can singe. 
My lord your fader (God his soule blesse!) 
And eek your moder, of hir gentilesse, 
Han in myn hous y-been, to my gret ese; 
And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese. 
But for men speke of singing, I wol saye. 
So niote I brouke^'^ wel myn eyen tweye, 480 
Save yow, I herde never man so singe. 
As dide your fader in the morweninge; 
Certe, it was of herte, al that he song. 
And for to make his voys the more strong. 
He wolde so peyne him, that with bothe his 

yen 
He moste winke, so loude he wolde cryen, 
And stonden on his tiptoon there-with-al. 
And strecche forth liis nekke long and smal. 
And eek he was of swich discrecioun, 
That ther nas no man in no regioun 490 
That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
I have wel rad in dann Burnel the Asse,^i 
Among his vers, how that ther was a cok. 
For that a preestes sone yaf him a knok 

9 The mediaeval " Bestiary," a collection of moral- 
ized descriptions of beasts. 

10 Our "brook" vb., here "use" or "enjoy." 

11 Nigellus Wireker's " Burnellus " or "Speculum 
Stultorum" (Mirror of Fools), Anglo-Latiu satirical 
poem written about 1190. 



142 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Upon his leg, whyl he was yong and nyce,^ 
He made him for to lese his benefyce. 
But certeyn, ther nis no comparisoun 
Bitwix the wisdom and discrecioun 
Of youre fader, and of his subtiltee. 
Now singeth, sire, for seinte Charitee, 500 
Let see, conne ye your fader countrefete ? ' ^ 
This Chauntecleer his winges gan to bete, 
As man that coude his tresoun nat espye, 
So was he ravisshed with his flaterye. 

Alias ! ye lordes, many a fals flatour 
Is in your courtes, and many a losengeonr,^ 
That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, 
Than he that soothfastnesse unto yow seith. 
Redeth Ecclesiaste ^ of flaterye; 
Beth war, ye lordes, of hir trecherye. 510 
This Chauntecleer stood hye up-on his 

toos, 
Strecehing his nekke, and heeld his eyen 

cloos. 
And gan to crowe loude for the nones; ^ 
And dann Russel the fox sterte up at ones. 
And by the gargat^ hente Chauntecleer, 
And on his bak toward the wode him beer. 
For yetne was ther no man that him sewed J 
O destinee, that mayst nat been eschewed ! 
Alias, that Chauntecleer fleigh fro the hemes ! 
Alias, his wyf ne roghte nat of dremes ! 520 
And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce. 
O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce, 
Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer, 
And in thy service dide al his poweer, 
More for delyt, than world to multiplye, 
Why woldestow suffre him on thy day to 

dye? 
O Gaufred,^ dere mayster soverayn, 
That, whan thy worthy king Richard was 

slayn 
With shot,^ compleynedest his deth so sore, 
Why ne hadde 1 now thy sentence and thy 

lore, 530 

The Friday for to chyde, as diden ye ? 
(For on a Friday soothly slayn was he.) 
Than wolde I she we yow how that I coude 

pleyne 
For Chauntecleres drede, and for his peyne. 

Certes, swich cry ne lamentacioun 
Was never of ladies maad, whan Ilioun 

1 foolish. 2 imitate. 3 flatterer. 

* PerhaTps Ecclesiasticus xii, 10 f. in the Apocrypha. 

5 " For the nonce," a meaningless phrase. 

6 gorge, throat. 7 pursued. 

8 G-eoffrey de Vinsauf (fl. 1200) who wrote the Nova 
Poetria to show what good verse should be. It contains 
an overdone lament for Richard I. 

9 He was deeply wounded near the nape of the neck 
by an arrow. 



Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite 

swerd, 
Whan he hadde hent ^^ king Priam by the 

herd, 
And slayn him (as saith us Eneydos),^^ 
As maden alle the hennes in the clos, 540 
Whan they had seyn of Chaimtecleer the 

sighte. 
But sovereynly dame Pertelote shrighte, 
Ful louder than dide Hasdrubales^'^ wyf, 
Whan that hir housbond hadde lost his lyf, 
And that the Romayns hadde brend Car- 
tage; 
She was so ful of torment and of rage, 
That wilfully into the fyr she sterte. 
And brende hir-selven with a stedf ast herte. 
O woful hennes, right so cryden ye, 
As, whan that Nero brende the citee 550 
Of Rome, cryden senatoures wyves, 
For that hir housbondes losten alle hir 

lyves; 
Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slayn. 
Now wol I torne to my tale agayn. 

This sely ^^ widwe, and eek hir doghtres 

two, 
Herden thise hennes crye and maken wo, 
And out at dores sterten they anoon, 
And syen the fox toward the grove goon. 
And bar upon his bak the cok away; 
And cryden, ' Out ! harrow ! and weyla- 

way ! 560 

Ha, ha, the fox ! ' and after him they ran, 
And eek with staves many another man; 
Ran CoUe our dogge, and Talbot, and Ger- 

land. 
And Malkin, with a distaf in hir hand; 
Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray 

hogges. 
So were they fered for berking of the 

dogges 
And shouting of the men and wimraen eke; 
They ronne so, hem thoughte hir herte 

breke. 
They yelleden as feendes doon in helle ; 
The dokes cryden as men wolde hem 

quelle ; 1** 570 

The gees for fere flowen over the trees; 
Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees; 
So hidous was the noyse, a ! benedicite f 
Certes, he Jakke Straw,^^ and his meynee, 

10 seized. n JEneid, II, 544. 

12 King of Carthage, who slew himself when the 
Romans captured it in 146 b. c. 

13 helpless. " kill. 

15 Leader of the London insurrection of 1381. He 
slew many Flemings. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



U3 



Ne made never shoutes half so shrille, 
Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille, 
As thilke day was maad upon the fox. 
Of bras thay broghten bemes,i and of box, 
Of horn, of boon, in whiche they blewe and 

poiiped, 
And therewithal thay shryked and they 

houped; 580 

It semed as that heven sholde falle. 
Now, gode men, I pray yow herkneth alle! 

Lo, how fortune turneth sodeinly 
The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy! 
This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak, 
In al his drede, un-to the fox he spak, 
And seyde, ' Sire, if that I were as ye. 
Yet sholde I seyn (as wis ^ God helpe me), 
*' Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle! 
A verray pestilence up-ou yow falle! 590 
Now am I come un-to this wodes syde, 
Maugree^ your heed, the cok shal heer 

abyde; 
I wol him ete in feith, and that anon." ' — 
The fox answerde, *In feith, it shall be 

don,' — 
And as he spak that word, al sodeinly 
This cok brak from his mouth deliverly,^ 
And heighe up-on a tree he fleigh anon. 
And whan the fox saugh that he was y-gon, 

* Alias ! ' quod he, < O Chauntecleer, alias ! 
I have to yow,' quod he, ' y-doon trespas, 
In-as-muche as I maked yow aferd, 601 
Whan I yow hente, and broghte out of the 

yerd; 
But, sire, I dide it in no wikke entente; 
Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente. 
I shal seye sooth to yow, God help me so.' 

* Nay than,' quod he, ' I shrewe ^ us bothe 

two, 
And first I shrewe my-self, bothe blood 

and bones, 
If thou bigyle me of fcer than ones. 
Thou shalt na-more, thnrgh thy flaterye, 
Do me to singe and winke with myn ye, 610 
For he that winketh, whan he sholde see, 
Al wilfully, God lat him never thee ! ' ^ 

* Nay,' quod the fox, ' but God yeve him 

meschaunce. 
That is so undiscreet of governaunce, 
That jangleth whan he sholde holde his 
pees.' 
Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees, 
And necligent, and trnste on flaterye. 
But ye that holden this tale a folye, 



trumpets, 
deftly. 



2 surely. 
6 curse. 



s lu spite of. 
' floiirish. 



As of a fox, or of a cok and hen, 
Taketh the moralitee, good men. 620 

For seint Paul seith, that al that w^riten is, 
To our doctryne it is y-write, y-wis.''^ 
Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille. 

Now, gode God, if that it be thy wille, 
As seith my lord, so make us alle good men; 
And bringe us to his heighe blisse. Amen. 

Here is ended the Nonne Preestes Tale. 

THE PROLOGUE OF THE 
PARDONERS TALE 

Here folweth the Prologe of the Pardoners Tale 

Radix malorum est Cupiditas: Ad Thimotheum, 
sexto. 

'LoRDiNGS,' quod he, 'in chirches whan I 

preche, 
I peyne me to han an hauteyn speche,^ 
And ringe it out as round as gooth a belle, 
For I can al by rote ^ that I telle. 
My theme is alwey oon, and ever was — 
" Radix malorum est Cupiditas." ^^ 

First I pronounce whennes that I come, 
And than my buUes shewe I, alle and 

somme. 
Our lige lordes seel on my patente,^^ 
That shewe I first, my body to warente, 10 
That no man be so bold, ne preest ne clerk, 
Me to destourbe of Cristes holy werk; 
And after that than telle I forth my tales, 
BuUes of popes and of cardinales. 
Of patriarkes, and bishoppes I shewe; 
And in Latyn I speke a wordes fewe, 
To safFion with my predicacioun,^^ 
And for to stire men to devocioun. 
Than shewe I forth my longe cristal stones, 
Y-crammed ful of cloutes and of bones; 20 
Reliks been they, as wenen they echoon. 
Than have I in latoun ^^ a sholder-boou 
Which that was of an holy Jewes shepe.^* 
" Good men," seye I, " tak of my wordes 

kepe ; ^^ 
If that this boon be wasshe in any welle, 
If cow, or calf, or sheep, or oxe swelle 
That any worm hath ete, or worm y-stonge,^^ 
Tak water of that welle, and wash his tonge, 

7 2 Timothy, iii, 16. 

8 I take pains to preach in a lofty vein. 

9 know by lieart. lO 1 Timothy, vi, 10. 

11 warrant, privilege. 

12 To colour, make more impressive, my preaching. 
Saifron was a beloved spice and garnish. 

13 latten, a mixed metal resembling brass. 
" Jacob's? 15 heed. 

16 If it has eaten a snake, or if a snake has stung it. 



144 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



And it is liool anon ; and furthermore, 
Of pokkes and of scabbe, and every sore 30 
Slial every sheep be hool, that of this welle 
Drinketh a draughte; tak kepe eek what I 

telle. 
If that the good-man, that the bestes 

oweth,^ 
Wol every wike,^ er that the cok him 

croweth, 
Fastinge, drinken of this welle a draughte, 
As thilke holy Jewe our eldres taughte, 
His bestes and his stoor shal multiply e. 
And, sirs, also it heleth jalousye; 
For, though a man be falle in jalous rage. 
Let maken with this water his potage, 40 
And never shal he more his wyf mistriste, 
Though he the sooth of hir defaute wiste; 
Al had she taken preestes two or three. 

Heer is a miteyn eek, that ye may see. 
He that his bond wol putte in this miteyn, 
He shal have multiplying of his greyu. 
Whan he hath so wen, be it whete or otes, 
So that he offre pens, or elles grotes. 

Good men and woramen, o thing warne 

I yow, 
If any wight be in this ehirche now, 50 

That hath doon sinne horrible, that he 
Dar nat, for shame, of it y-shriven be, 
Or any worn man, be she yong or old. 
That hath y-maad hir housbond cokewold, 
Swich folk shul have no power ne no grace 
To offren to my reliks in this place. 
And who-so findeth him out of swich blame. 
He wol com up and offre in Goddes name, 
And 1 assoille him by the auctoritee 
Which that by bulle y-graunted was to 

me." 60 

By this gaude ^ have I wonne, yeer by yeer. 
An hundred mark sith I was Pardoner. 
I stonde lyk a clerk in my pulpet. 
And whan the lewed peple is doun y-set, 
I preche, so as ye han herd bifore, 
And telle an hundred false japes more. 
Than peyne I me to strecche forth the 

nekke. 
And est and west upon the peple I bekke,'* 
As doth a dowve sitting on a berne. 
Myn hondes and my tonge goon so yerne,^ 70 
That it is joye to see my bisinesse. 
Of avaryce and of swich cursednesse 
Is al my preching, for to make hem free 
To yeve her pens, and namely ^ un-to me. 

1 " Own " and " owe " are the same word. 

2 apparently "week." 

3 trifle. i nod. s actively. 6 especially. 



For my entente is nat but for to winne, 
And no-thing for correccioun of sinne. 
I rekke never, whan that they ben beried, 
Though that her. soules goon a-blake- 

beried ! "^ 
For certes, many a predicacioun 
Comth ofte tynie of yvel entencioun; 80 
Som for plesaunce of folk and fiaterye, 
To been avaunced by ipocrisye. 
And som for veyne glorie, and som for hate. 
For, whan I dar non other weyes debate. 
Than wol I stinge him with my tonge 

smerte 
In preching, so that he shal nat asterte 
To been defamed falsly, if that he 
Hath trespased to luj brethren or to me. 
For, though I telle noght his propre name, 
Men shal wel knowe that it is the same 90 
By signes and by othere circumstances. 
Thus quyte I folk that doon us displesances ; 
Thus spitte I out my venim under hewe 
Of holynesse, to seme holy and trewe. 

But shortly myn entente I wol devyse; 
I preche of no-thing but for coveityse. 
Therf or my theme is yet, and ever was — 
" Radix malorum est cupiditas." 
Thus can I preche agayn that same vyce 
Which that I use, and that is avaryce. 100 
But, though my-self be gilty in that sinne, 
Yet can I maken other folk to twiune ^ 
From avaryce, and sore to repente. 
But that is nat my principal entente. 
I preche no-thing but for coveityse; 
Of this matere it oughte y-nogh suffyse. 
Than telle I hem ensamples many oon 
Of olde stories, longe tyme agoon: 
For lewed peple loven tales olde; 
Swich thinges can they wel reporte and 

holde. no 

What ? trowe ye, the whyles I may preche, 
And winne gold and silver for I teche, 
That I wol live in povert wilfully ? 
Nay, nay, 1 thoghte it never trewely ! 
For I wol preche and begge in sondry 

londes ; 
I wol not do no labour with myn hondes, 
Ne make baskettes, and live therby, 
Because I wol nat beggen ydelly. 
I wol non of the apostles counterfete; 
I wol have money, wolle, chese, and whete, 
Al ^ were it yeven of the povrest page, 121 
Or of the povrest widwe in a village, 
Al sholde hir children sterve for famyne. 
Nay ! I wol drinke licour of the vyne, 
7 a-blackberrying. » separate. ^ Although. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



145 



!i And have a joly wenche in every toun. 
' But herkneth, lordings, in conclusiouu; 
' Your lyking is that I shal telle a tale. 
I Now, have 1 dronke a draughte of corny ale, 
! By God, I hope I shal yow telle a thing 
I That shal, by resoun, been at 3' our lyking. 
' For, though myself be a ful vicious man, 131 
I A moral tale yet I yow telle can, 
' Which I am wont t5 preche, for to winne. 
Now holde your pees, my tale I wol be- 
ginne.' 



THE PARDONERS TALE 

Here biginneth the Pardoners Tale 

In Flaundres whylom was a companye 
Of yonge folk, that haunteden ^ folye. 
As ryot, hasard, stewes,^ and tavernes, 
Wher-as, with harpes, lutes, and giternes,^ 
They daunce and pleye at dees bothe day 

and night, 
And ete also and drinken over hir might, 
Thurgh which they doon the devel sacri- 

fyse 
With-in that develes temple, in cursed wyse. 
By superfluitee abhominable ; 
Hir othes been so grete and so dampnable. 
That it is grisly for to here hem swere; n 
Our blissed lordes body they to-tere;^ 
Hem thoughte Jewes rente him noght 

y-nough; 
And ech of hem at otheres sinne lough. ^ 
And right anon than comen tombesteres ^ 
Fetys' and smale, and yonge fruytesteres,^ 
Singers with harpes, baudes, wafereres,^ 
Whiche been the verray develes officeres 
To kindle and blowe the fyr of lecherye. 
That is annexed un-to glotonye; 20 

The holy writ take I to my witnesse, 
That luxurie is in wyn and dionkenesse. 

Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely,^^ 
Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; 
So dronke he was he niste what he wroghte. 

Herodes, (who-so wel the stories soghte). 
Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste. 
Right at his owene table he yaf his heste^^ 
To sleen the Baptist John ful giltelees. 

Senek seith eek a good word doutelees; 30 

1 followed. 2 brothels. ' citherns, mandolins. 
* The church taught that Christ was pained again in 
whatever part of his body a profane person swore by. 
5 laughed. ' s tumbling girls. 

7 well formed. 8 girls who sold fruit. 

9 venders of wafers, i.e. waffles. 
IP against nature. n gave the order. 



He seith, he can no difference finde 
Bitwix a man that is out of his minde 
And a man which that is dronkelewe,^^ 
But that woodnesse, y-fallen in a shrewe,^^ 
Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. 
O glotonye, ful of cursed nesse, 
O cause first of our conf usioun, 
O original of our dampnacioun, 
Til Crist had boght us with his blood 

agayn I 
Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, 40 

Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; 
Corrupt was al this world for glotonye! 

Adam our fader, and his wyf also, 
Fro Paradys to labour and to wo 
Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede;^^ 
For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, 
He was in Paradys; and whan that he 
Eet of the fruyt defended ^° on the tree. 
Anon 16 he was out-cast to wo and peyne. 

glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! 50 
O, wiste a man how many maladyes 
Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, 

He wolde been the more mesurable 

Of bis diete, sittiiige at his table. 

Alias! the shorte tbrote. the tendre mouth, 

Maketh that. Est and West, and North and 

South, 
In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke ^"^ 
To gQt% a glotoun deyntee mete and 

drinke ! 
Of this matere, o Paul, wel canstow trete, 

* Mete un-to wombe, and wombe eek un-to 

mete, 60 

Shal God destroyen bothe,' asPaulus seith.^^ 
Alias! a foul thing is it, by my feith, 
To seye this word, and fouler is the dede, 
Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and 

rede,i9 
That of his tbrote he maketh his privee, 
Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee. 

The apostel weping seith ful pitously, 

* Ther walken many of whiche yow told 

have I, 

1 seye it now weping with pitous voys, 
That they been enemys of Cristes croys, 70 
Of whiche the ende is deeth, wombe is her 

god.' 20 
O wombe! O bely! O stinking cod,^! 
Fulfild of donge and of corrupcioun! 
At either ende of thee foul is the soun. 

12 drunken. The termination is Scandinavian. 

13 madness, happening to a person of evil nature. 

14 beyond doubt. i^ forbidden. is Instantly. 

17 labour overmuch. is i Corinthians, vi, 13. 

18 wines. 20 Philippians, iii, 19. 21 bag. 



146 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



How greet labour and cost is thee to finde! ^ 
Thise cokes, how they stainpe, and streyne, 

and grinde, 
And turnen substaunce in-to accident,^ 
To fulfille al thy likerous talent ^ ! 
Out of the harde bones knokke they 
The mary,'* for they caste noght a-wey 80 
That may go thurgh the golet softe and 

swote ; 
Of spicerye, of leef, and bark, and rote 
Shal been his sauce y-niaked by delyt, 
To make him yet a newer appetyt. 
But certes, he that haunteth swich delyces 
Is deed, whyl that he liveth in tho vyces. 
A lecherous thing is wyn; and dronke- 

nesse 
Is ful of stryving and of wrecchednesse. 
O dronke man, disfigured is thy face, 89 
Sour is thy breeth, foul artow to embrace, 
And thurgh thy dronke nose semeth the soun 
As though thou seydest ay, ' Sampsoun, 

Sampsoun '; 
And yet, God wot, Sampsoun drank never 

no wyn. 
Thou fallest, as it were a stiked swyn; 
Thy tonge is lost, and al thyn honest cure ; ^ 
For dronkenesse is verray sepulture 
Of mannes wit and his discrecioun. 
In whom that drinke hath dominacioun, 
He can no conseil kepe, it is no drede. 
Now kepe yow fro the whyte and fro the 

rede, 100 

And namely fro the whyte wyn of Lepe,^ 
That is to selle in Fish-strete or in Chepe J 
This wyn of Spayne crepeth subtilly 
In othere wynes, growing faste by,^ 
Of which ther ryseth swich fumositee,^ 
That whan a man hath dronken draughtes 

three, 
And weneth that he be at hoom in Chepe, 
He is in Spayne, right at the toune of Lepe, 
Nat at the Rochel, ne at Burdeux toun; 1° 
And thanne wol he seye, ' Sampsoun, Samp- 
soun.' no 
But herkneth, lordings, o word, I yow 

preye, 
That alle the sovereyn actes, dar I seye, 

1 to provide for. 

2 A scholastic distinction: the cooks change the very 
nature of the food. 3 gourmandizing appetite. 

i marrow. 5 decent personal care. 

6 Near Cadiz ; the wine is perhaps natural sherry, 

7 Cheapside, London. 

8 A sly allusion to the adulterating and fortifying of 
wines. ^ drunken fumes. 

10 The wines of La Rochelle and Bordeaux were 
milder. 



Of victories in th'olde testament, 
Thurgh verray God, that is omnipotent, 
Were doon in abstinence and in preyere; 
Loketh the Bible, and ther ye may it lere. 

Loke, Attila, the grete conquerour, 
Deyde in his sleep, with shame and dishon- 
our, 
Bledinge ay at his nose in dronkenesse; 
A capitayn shoulde live in sobrenesse. 120 
And over all this, avyseth yow right wel 
What was comaunded un-to Lamuel — ^^ 
Nat Samuel, hue Lamuel, seye I — 
Redeth the Bible, and finde it expresly 
Of wyn-yeving to hem that han justyse. 
Na-more of this, for it may wel suffyse. 

And now that I have spoke of glotonye, 
Now wol I yow defenden ^^ hasardrye. 
Hasard is verray moder of lesinges, 129 
And of deceite, and cursed forsweringes, 
Blaspheme of Crist, manslaughtre, and 

wast also 
Of catel 1^ and of tyme; and forthermo, " 
It is repreve ^^ and contrarie of honour, 
For to ben holde a commune hasardour. 
And ever the hyer he is of estaat, 
The more is he holden desolaat. 
If that a prince useth hasardrye, 
In alle governaunce and policye 
He is, as by commune opinioun, 
Y-holde the lasse in reputacioun. 140 

Stilbon,!^ that was a wys embassadour, 
Was sent to Corinthe, in ful greet honour, 
Fro Lacidomie, to make hir alliaunce. 
And whan he cam, him happede, par 

chaunce, 
That alle the grettest that were of that 

lond, 
Pleyinge atte hasard he hem fond. 
For which, as sone as it mighte be. 
He stal him hoom agayn to his contree, 
And seyde, ' Ther wol I nat lese my 

name; 
Ne I wol nat tak on me so greet de- 
fame, 150 
Yow for to allye un-to none hasardours. 
Sendeth othere wyse embassadours. 
For, by my trouthe, me were lever dye, 
Than I yow sholde to hasardours allye. 
For ye that been so glorious in honours 
Shul nat allyen yow with hasardours 
As by my wil, ne as by my tretee.' 
This wyse philosophre thus seyde he. 

11 Lemuel, v. Proverbs, xxxi, 4. 

12 forbid. 13 chattels, property. » reproach. 
15 Apparently for Chilon. The story is in John of 

Salisbury's Policraiicus, book I, chap. 5. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



147 



Loke eek that, to the king Demetrius 
The king of Parthes, as the book seith 

US,1 160 

Sente him a paire of dees of gold in scorn, 
For he hadde used hasaid ther-biforn; 

I For which he heeld his glorie or his renoun 
At no value or reputacioun. 

j Lordes may finden" other maner pley 

' Honeste y-nough to dryve the day awey. 

j Now wol I speke of othes false and 

I grete 

I A word or two, as olde bokes trete. 
Gret swering is a thing abhominable, 

I And false swering is yet more reprev- 
able. 170 

The heighe God forbad swering at al, 
Witnesse on Mathew; ^ but in special 
Of swering seith the holy Jeremye,^ 

I * Thou shalt seye sooth thyn othes, and nat 

And swere in dome, and eek in rightwis- 

nesse; ' 
But ydel swering is a cursednesse. 
Bihold and see, that iu the firste table ^ 
Of heighe Goddes hestes honurable, 
How that the seconde beste of him is this — 
*Tak nat my name in ydel or amis.' 180 
Lo, rather ^ he forbedeth swich swering 
■ Than homicyde or many a cursed thing; 
I seye that, as by ordre, thus it stondeth; 
This knowen, that his hestes understond- 

eth, 
How that the second heste of God is that. 
And forther over, I w^ol thee telle al plat,^ 
i That vengeance shal nat parten from his 

hous. 
That of his othes is to outrageous. 
*By Goddes precious herte, and by his 

nayles, 
And by the blode of Crist, that it is in 

Hayles,'^ 190 

Seven is my chaunce, and thyn is cink and 

treye ; ^ 
By Goddes armes, if thou falsly pleye, 

1 John of Salisbury's Policraiicus, after the place 
last cited. 

2 Mattheu\ V. 34. 3 Jeremiah, iv, 2. 

4 The commandments were divided into two tables, 
the first laying down man's duty toward God, the sec- 
ond his duty toward his fellows. The first two com- 
mandments were grouped as one, and so our third was 
the second — as in 1. 179. 

5 He forbids it sooner, i.e. earlier among the com- 
mandments. 

6 And furthermore I say flatly. 

^ At Ashridge in Gloucestershire. This precious 
blood in a phial was visible only to the truly penitent. 

8 five and three. These are technical expressions in 
the- game of '' hazard." 



This dagger shal thurgh-out thyn herte 

go' — 
This fruyt cometh of the bicched^ bones 

two, 
Forswering, ire, falsnesse, homicyde. 
Now, for the love of Crist that for us dyde, 
Leveth your othes, bothe grete and smale. 
But, sirs, now wol I telle forth my tale. 

Thise ryotoures three, of whiche I telle, 
Longe erst er pryme rong of any belle, 200 
Were set hem in a taverne for to drinke ; 
And as they satte, they herde a belle clinke 
Biforn a cors, was caried to his grave; 
That oon of hem gan callen to his knave, 

* Go bet,' 1° quod he, * and axe redily. 
What cors is this that passeth heer forby; 
And look that thou reporte his name wel.' 

* Sir,' quod this boy, ' it nedeth never- 

a-del. 
It was me told, er ye cam heer, two houres; 
He was, pardee, an old felawe of youres; 210 
And sodeynly he was y-slayu to-night, 
For-dronke,ii as he sat on his bench upright; 
Ther cam a privee theef, men clepeth 

Deeth, 
That in this contree al the peple sleeth. 
And with his spere he smoot his herte 

a-two. 
And wente his wey with-outen wordes mo. 
He hath a thousand slayn this pestilence: 
And, maister, er ye come in his presence, 
Me thinketh that it were necessarie 
For to be war of swich an adversarie: 220 
Beth redy for to mete him evermore. 
Thus taugiite me my dame, I sey na-more.' 
' By seinte Marie,' seyde this taverner, 

* The child seith sooth, for he hath slayn 

this yeer, 
Henne over a myle, with-in a greet village, 
Both man and womman, child and hyne, 

and page. 
I trowe his habitacioun be there; 
To been avysed greet wisdom it were, 
Er that he dide a man a dishonour.' 

* Ye, Goddes armes ! ' quod this ryotour, 230 

* Is it swich peril with him for to mete ? 

I shal him seke by wey and eek by strete, 
I make avow to Goddes digne bones! 
Herkneth, felawes, we three been al ones; 
Lat ech of us holde up his bond til other. 
And ech of us bicomen otheres brother, 

9 An imcertain word meaning picked, endented ; or 
accursed ; or knuckle (bones). 

10 quickly, literally " better." n Dead drunk. 



148 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



And we wol sleen this false traytour Deeth; 
He shal be slayu, which that so many sleeth, 
By Goddes dignitee, er it be uight.' 

Togidres han thise three her trouthes 

plight, 240 

To live and dyen ech of hem for other, 
As though he were his oweue y-boren 

brother. 
And up they sterte al dronken, in this rage, 
And forth they goon towardes that village. 
Of which the taverner had spoke biforn, 
And many a grisly ooth than han they 

sworn, 
And Cristes blessed body they^to-rente — 
Deeth shal be deed, if that they may him 

hente. 
Whan they han goon nat fully half a myle. 
Right as they wolde han troden over a 

style, 250 

An old man and a povre with hem mette. 
This olde man ful mekely hem grette,i 
And seyde thus, ' Now, lordes, God yow 

see! '2 
The proudest of thise ryotoures three 
Answerde agayn, * What ? carl, with sory 

grace,^ 
Why artow al f orwrapped ^ save thy face ? 
Why livestow so longe in so greet age ? ' 

This olde man gau loke in his visage, 
And seyde thus, ' For I ne can nat finde 
A man, though that I walked in-to Inde, 260 
Neither in citee nor in no village. 
That wolde ehaunge his youthe for myn 

age; 
And therfore moot I han myn age stille, 
As longe time as it is Goddes wille. 

Ne deeth, alias! ne wol nat han my lyf ; 
Thus walke I, lyk a restelees caityf, 
And on the ground, which is my modres 

gate, 
I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late. 
And seye, "Leve moder, leet me in! 
Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and 

skin! 270 

Alias! whan shul my bones been at reste? 
Moder, with yow wolde I ehaunge my 

cheste. 
That in my chambre longe tyme hath be. 
Ye! for an hey re clout to wrappe me!" ^ 
But yet to me she wol nat do that grace. 
For which ful pale and welked ^ is my face. 

1 greeted. 2 save. ^ confound you. 

4 concealed with wrappings. 

5 I would change all the treasure that is in the chest 
at the foot of my bed for a haircloth (shroud). 

6 withered. 



But, sirs, to yow it is no curteisye 
To speken to an old man vileinye, 
But he trespasse in worde, or elles in dede. 
In holy writ ye may your-self wel rede, 280 
"Agayns^ an old man, hoor upon his heed, 
Ye sholde aryse;"^ wherfor I yeve yow 

reed, 
Ne dooth un-to an old man noon harm now, 
Na-more than ye wolde men dide to yow 
In age, if that ye so longe abyde; 
And God be with yow, wher ye go ^ or ryde. 
I moot go thider as I have to go.' 

• Nay, olde eherl, by God, thou shalt nat 

so,' 
Seyde this other hasardour anon; 
* Thou partest nat so lightly, by seint John! 
Thou spak right now of thilke traitour 

Deeth, 291 

That in thiscontree alle our frendes sleeth. 
Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his 

aspye,!^ 
Tel wher he is, or thou shalt it abye,^ 
By God, and by the holy sacrament! 
For soothly thou art oon of his assent. 
To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef ! ' 

* Now, sirs,' quod he, ' if that yow be so 

leef 
To finde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, 
For in that grove I lafte him, by my fey, 
Under a tree and ther he wol abyde ; 301 
Nat for your boost he wol him no-thing 

hyde. 
See ye that ook ? Right ther ye shul him 

finde, 
God save yow, that boghte agayn mankinds, 
And yow amende! ' — thus seyde this olde 

man. 
And everich of thise ryotoures ran. 
Til he cam to that tree, and ther they 

founde 
Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounds 
Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. 
No lenger tbanne after Deeth they soughte, 
But ech of hem so glad was of that siglite, 
For that the florins been so faire and 

brighte, 312 

That doun they setts hem by this precious 

hord. 
The worste of hem he spake the firste word. 
' Brethren,' quod he, ' tak kepe what I 

seye; 
My wit is greet, though that I bourde ^^ and 

pleye. 



7 When you meet. 
9 walk. 10 spy. 



8 Leviticus, xix, 32. 
11 pay for. 12 joke. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



149 



This tresor hath fortune un-to us yiven, 
In mirth e and jolitee our lyf to liven ; 
And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. 
Ey ! Goddes precious dignitee ! who wende 
To-day, that we sholde han so fair a grace ? 
But mighte this gold be caried fro this 

place *■ 322 

Hoom to myn hous, or elles un-to youres — 
For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures — 
Than were we in heigh felicitee. 
But trewely, by daye it may nat be; 
Men wolde seyu that we were theves 

stronge, 
And for our owene tresor doon us honge.^ 
This tresor moste y-caried be by uighte 
As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. 330 

Wherfore I rede that cut ^ among us alle 
Be drawe, and lat see wher the cut wol 

f alle ; 
And he that hath the cut with herte blvthe 
Shal renne to the toune, and that ful 

swythe,^ 
And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. 
And two of us shul kepen subtilly 
This tresor wel; and, if he wol nat tarie, 
Whan it is night, we wol this tresor carie 
By oon assent, wher-as us thinketh best.' 
That oon of hem the cut broughte in his 

fest, 340 

And bad hem drawe, and loke wher it wol 

falle; 
And it fil on the yongeste of hem alle; 
And forth toward the toun he wente anon. 
And also sone as that he was gon, 
That oon of hem spak thus un-to that other, 
'Thou knowest wel thou art my sworne 

brother, 
Thy profit wol I telle tliee anon. 
Thou woost wel that our f elawe is agon ; 
And heer is gold, and that ful greet plentee. 
That shal departed been among us three. 
But natheles, if I can sliape it so 351 

That it departed were among us two, 
Hadde I nat doon a freendes torn to thee ? ' 
That other answerde, ' I noot how that 

may be; 
He woot how that the gold is with us 

tweye; 
What shal we doon, what shal we to him 

seye ? ' 
* Shal it be conseil ? ' ^ seyde the firste 

shrewe,^ 

1 cause us to be hanged. 

2 lot; the "cut" was the stick or straw cut longer 
(or shorter) than all the others. 

3 quickly. * a secret. * rascal. 



* And I shal tellen thee, in wordes f ewe, 
What we shal doon, and bringe it wel 
aboute.' 

* I graunte,' quod that other, ' out of 

doute, 360 

That, by my trouthe, I wol thee nat bi- 
wreye.' 

* Now,' quod the firste, ' thou woost wel 

we be tweye. 
And two of us shul strenger be than oon. 
Look whan that he is set, and right anoon 
Arys, as though thou woldest with him 

pleye ; 
And I shal ryve him thurgh the sydes 

tweye 
Whyl that thou strogelest with him as in 

game. 
And with thy dagger look thou do the 

same; 
And than shal al this gold departed be. 
My dere freend, bitwixen me and thee; 370 
Than may we bothe our lustes al fulfille, 
And pleye at dees righte at our owene 

wille.' 
And thus acorded been thise shrewes tweye 
To sleen the thridde, as ye han herd me 
^ seye. 
This yongest, which that wente un-to the 

toim, 
Ful ofte in herte he roUeth up and dovm 
The beautee of thise florins newe and 

brighte. 
' O lord ! ' quod he, * if so were that I 

mighte 
Have al this tresor to my-self allone, 
Ther is no man that liveth under the trone 
Of God, that sholde live so mery as I! ' 381 
And atte laste the feend, our enemy, 
Putte in his thought that he shold poyson 

beye, 
With which he mighte sleen his felawes 

tweye ; 
For-why the feend fond him in swich 

lyvinge. 
That he had leve him to sorwe bringe, 
For this was outrely his fulle entente 
To sleen hem bothe, and never to repente. 
And forth he gooth, no lenger wolde he tarie. 
Into the toun, un-to a pothecarie, 390 

And preyed him, that he him wolde selle 
Som poyson, that he mighte his rattes 

quelle ; ^ 
And eek ther was a polcat in his hawe,"^ 
That, as he seyde, his capouns hadde y-slawe, 
6 kill. 7 yard, hen-yard, literally "hedge." 



ISO 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



And fayn he wolde wreke him, if he mighte, 
Oil vermin, that destroyed him by iiighte. 
The pothecarie answerde, * And thou shalt 
have 
A thing that, al-so God my soule save, 
In al this world ther iiis no creature, 
That ete or dronke hath of this confiture 
!Noght but the mountance ^ of a corn of 
whete, 401 

That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; 
Ye, sterve ^ he shal, and that in lasse whyle 
Than thou wolt goon a paas nat but a 

myle; 
This poyson is so strong and violent.' 

This cursed man hath in liis bond y-hent 
This poyson in a box, and sith he ran 
In-to the nexte strete, un-to a man. 
And borwed of him large hotels three; 
And in the two his poyson poured he; 410 
The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. 
For al the nightheshoophim^for to swiiike ^ 
In caryinge of the gold out of that place. 
And whan this ryotour, with sory grace, 
Had filled with wyn his grete hotels three, 
To his felawes agayn repaireth he. 

What nedeth it to sermone of it more ? 
For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, 
Right so they ban him slayn, and that anon. 
And whan that this was doon, thus spak 
that oon, 420 

* Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us 

merie. 
And afterward we wol his body berie.' 
And with that word it happed him, par cas, 
To take the hotel ther the poyson was, 
And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also. 
For which anon they storven ^ bothe two. 

But, certes, I suppose that Avicen 
Wroot never in no canon, ne in no fen,^ 
Mo wonder '^ signes of empoisoning 
Than hadde thise wrecches two, er hir end- 
ing. ^ ^ 430 
Thus ended been thise homicydes two, 
And eek the false empoysoner also. 

O cursed sinne, ful of cursednesse ! 
O traytours homicyde, o wikkednesse ! 
O glotonye, luxurie, and hasardrye ! 
Thou blaspheraour of Crist with vileinye 
And othes grete, of usage and of pryde ! 
Alias ! mankinde, how may it bityde, 

1 amount. 2 ,jie. s intended. * labour. » died. 

6 Avicenna (fl. 1000 A.D.), the great Arabian phy- 
sician, wrote a medical treatise called the "Canon," 
with chapters termed "fens." 

'' wondrous. 



That to thy creatour which that thee 

wroghte, 
And with his precious herte-blood thee 

boghte, 440 

Thou art so fals and so unkinde, alias ! 
Now, goode men, God forge ve yow your 

trespas. 
And ware yow fro the sinne of avaryce. 
Myn holy pardoun may yow alle waryce,^ 
So that ye offre nobles or sterlinges,^ 
Or elles silver broches, spones, ringes. 
Boweth your heed under this holy bulle ! 
Cometh up, ye wyves, offreth of your wolle ! 
Your name I entre heer in my roUe anon; 
In-to the blisse of hevene shul ye gon; 450 
I yow assoile, by myn heigh power, 
Yow that wol offre, as clene and eek as 

cleer 
As ye were born; and, lo, sirs, thus I preche. 
And Jesu Crist, that is our soules leche, 
So graunte yow his pardon to receyve; 
For that is best; I wol yow nat deceyve. 

But sirs, o word forgat I in my tale, 
I have relikes and pardon in my male, 
As faire as any man in Engelond, 
Whiche were me yeven by the popes bond. 
If any of yow wol, of devocioun, 461 

Offren, and ban myn absolucioun, 
Cometh forth anon, and kneleth beer adoun, 
And mekely receyveth my pardoun: 
Or elles, taketh pardon as ye wende, 
Al newe and fresh, at every tonnes ende, 
So that ye offren alwey newe and newe 
Nobles and pens, which that be gode and 

trewe. 
It is an honour to everich that is beer, 
That ye mowe have a suffisant pardoneer 
T'assoille yow, in contree as ye ryde, 471 
For aveutures which that may bityde. 
Peraventure ther may falle oon or two 
Doun of his hors, and breke his nekke 

at wo. 
Look which a seuretee is it to yow alle 
That I am in your felaweship y-falle, 
That may assoille yow, bothe more and 

lasse. 
Whan that the soule shal fro the body passe. 
I rede that our hoste heer shal biginne, 
For he is most envoluped in sinne. 480 

Con. forth, sir hoste, and offre first anon, 
And thou shalt kisse the reliks everichon, 
Ye, for a grote ! unbokel anon thy purs. 
' Nay, nay,' quod he, * than have I Cristes 



8 save. 



9 silver coins. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



51 



Lat be,' quod he, ' it shal nat be, so thee'ch ! ^ 
Thou woldest make me kisse thyn old 

breech,2 
And swere it were a relik of a seint.' ^ 



Here is ended the Pardoners Tale. 



I THE TALE OF THE WYF OF 
i BATHE 

Here biginneth the Tale of the Wyf of Bathe 

j In th'olde dayes of the king Arthour, 
I Of which that Britons speken greet honour, 
1 Al was this land f ulfild of fayerye. 
j The elf-queen, with hir joly companye, 
j Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede; 
! This was the olde opinion, as I rede. 
! I speke of manye hundred yeres ago; 
But now can no man see none elves mo. 
For now the grete charitee and prayeres 
Of limitours and othere holy freres, 10 

That serchen every lond and every streem, 
As thikke as motes in the sonne-beem, 
Blessinge halles, chambres, kichenes, 

boures, 
Citees, burghes, castels, hye tonres, 
Thropes,^ bernes, shipnes,^ dayeryes. 
This maketh that ther been no fayeryes. 
For ther as wont to walken was an elf, 
Ther walketh now the limitour himself 
In undermeles ^ and in morweninges, 19 
And seyth his matins and his holy thinges 
As he goth in his limitacioun. 
Wommen may go saufly up and doun, 
In every bush, or under every tree; 
Ther is noon other incubus but he. 
And he ne wol doon hem non' dishonour. 
And so bifel it, that this king Arthour 
Hadde in his hous a lusty bacheler. 
That on a day cam rydinge fro river;** 
And happed that, allone as she was born, 
He saugh a mayde walkinge him biforn, 30 
Of whiche mayde anon, maugree hir heed,^ 
By verray force he rafte hir maydenheed; 
For which oppressioun was swich clamour 
And swich pursute un-to the king Arthour, 

1 as I may prosper. 2 breeches. 

8 Here follows for a few lines a coarse quarrel be- 
tween the two, but the knight reconciles them. 
4 Thorps, villages. 5 cow-barns. 

6 Here apparently mid-afternoon. 
t Most MSS. read hut. 8 That is, from hawking. 

• in spite of all resistance. 



That dampned was this knight for to be 

deed 
By cours of lawe, and sholde han lost his 

heed 
Paraventure, swich was the statut tho; 
But that the quene and othere ladies mo 
So longe preyeden the king of grace, 
Til he his lyf him graunted in the place, 40 
And yaf him to the quene al at hir wille, 
To chese, whether she wolde him save or 

spille.io 
The quene thanketh the king with al hir 

might, 
And after this thus spak she to the knight, 
Whan that she saugh hir tyme, up-on a 

day: 
'Thou standest yet,' quod she, *in swich 

array 
That of thy lyf yet hastow no suretee. 
I grante thee lyf, if thou canst tellen me 
What thing is it that wommen most de- 
syren . 
Be war, and keep thy nekke-boon from 

yren. 50 

And if thou canst nat tellen it anon, 
Yet wol I yeve thee leve for to gon 
A twelf-month and a day, to seche and 

lere 
An answere suffisant in this matere. 
And suretee wol I han, er that thou pace, 
Thy body for to yelden in this place.' 
Wo was this knight and sorwefully he 

syketli; 
But what ! he may nat do al as him lyketh. 
And at the laste, he chees him for to 

wende, 59 

And come agayn, right at the yeres eude. 
With swich answere as God wolde him pur- 

veye; 
And taketh his leve, and wendeth forth 

his weye. 
He seketh every hous and every place, 
Wher-as he hopeth for to finde grace, 
To lerne what thing wommen loven most; 
But he ne coude arryven in no cost, 
Wher-as he mighte finde in this matere 
Two creatures accordinge in-fere.^^ 

Somme seyde, wommen loven best rich- 

esse, 
Somme seyde honour, somme seyde joly- 

nesse; 70 

Somme riche array, somme seyden lust 

abedde. 
And ofte tyme to be widwe and wedde. 
10 destroy. " agreeing together. 



152 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Somme seyde, that our hertes been most 

esed 
Whan that we been y-flatered and y-plesed. 
He gooth ful ny the sothe, I wol nat lye; 
A man shal winne us best with llaterye; 
And with attendance and with bisinesse 
Been we y-lymed,^ both more and lesse. 

And somme seyn, how that we loven best 
For to be free, and do right as us lest, 80 
And that no man repreve us of our vyce, 
But seye that we be wyse, and no-thing 

nyce.2 
For trewely, ther is noon of us alle, . 
If any wight wol clawe us on the galle, 
That we nil kike,^ for he seith us sooth; 
Assay, and he shal finde it that so dooth. 
For be we never so vicious with-inne. 
We wol been holden wyse, and clene of 

sinne. 
And somme seyn, that greet delyt han 

we 
For to ben holden stable and eek secree, 90 
And in o purpos stedefastly to dwelle. 
And nat biwreye thing that men us telle. 
But that tale is nat worth a rake-stele;^ 
Pardee, we wommenconne no-thing hele;^ 
Witnesse on Myda;^ wol ye here the tale ? 

Ovyde, amonges othere thinges smale, 
Seyde Myda hadde, under his longe heres, 
Growinge up-on his heed two asses eres. 
The whiclie vyce he hidde, as he best 

mighte, 
Ful subtilly from every mannes sighte, loo 
That, save his wyf, ther wiste of it namo. 
He loved hir most, and trusted hir also; 
He preyede hir, that to no creature 
She sholde tellen of his disfigure. 

She swoor him nay, for al this world 

to winne. 
She nolde do that vileinye or sinne. 
To make hir housbond han so foul a name; 
She nolde nat telle it for hir owene shame. 
But nathelees, hir thoughte that she dyde,'^ 
That she so longe sholde a conseil hyde; no 
Hir thoughte it swal so sore aboute hir 

herte. 
That nedely som word hir moste asterte; ^ 

1 caught, as birds by lime-twigs. 2 silly. 

3 If any touch us on a tender spot we '11 kick. Some 
MSS. have like for kike, giving the meaning — if any 
stroke our wound gently we will like it. 

^ rake-handle — still used in English dialects. 

5 know how to conceal nothing. 

6 Midas, Ovid's Metamorphoses, XI, 174, though the 
versions do not agree. 

7 it seemed to her as if she must perish. 

8 she had to say something. 



And sith she dorste telle it to no man, 
Doim to a mareys^ faste by she ran; 
Til she came there, hir herte was a-fyre, 
And, as a bitore bombleth '^^ in the myre. 
She leyde hir mouth un-to the water doun: 
' Biwreye me nat, thou water, with thy 

soun,' 
Quod she, * to thee I telle it, and namo; 119 
Myn housbond hath longe asses eres two ! 
Now is myn herte all hool, now is it oute; 
I mighte no lenger kepe it, out of doute.' 
Heer may ye se, thogh we a tyme abyde, 
Yet out it moot, we can no conseil hyde; 
The remenant of the tale if ye wol here, 
Redeth Ovyde, and ther ye may it lere. 
This knight, of which my tale is speci- 

ally, 
Whan that he saugh he mighte nat come 

therby. 
This is to seye, what wommen loven moost, 
With-inne his brest ful sorweful was the 

goost; 130 

But boom he gooth, he mighte not so- 

journe. 
The day was come that hoomward moste 

he tourne; 
And in his wey it happed him to ryde. 
In al this care, under a forest-syde, 
Wher-as he saugh up-on ^^ a daunce go 
Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo; 
Toward the whiche daunce he drow ful 

yerne,^^ 
In hope that som wisdom sholde he lerne. 
But certainly, er he came fully there, 
Vanisshed was this daunce, he niste 

where. 140 

No creature saugh he that bar lyf. 
Save on the grene he saugh sittinge a 

wyf; 
A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. 
Agayn the knight this olde wyf gan ryse, 
And seyde, ' Sir knight, heer-forth ne lyth 

no wey. 
Tel me what that ye seken, by your fey. 
Paraventure it may the bettre be ; 
Thise olde folk can muchel thing,' quod she. 
' My leve mooder,' quod this knight, * cer- 
teyn 
I nam but deed, but-if that I can seyn 150 
What thing it is that wommen most de- 

syre; 
Coude ye me wisse,!^ I wolde wel quyte 

your hyre.'^^ 

9 marsh. "> as a bittern bumbles or booms. 

11 in. 12 eagerly. " show. " reward you. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



153 



* Plight me thy trouthe, heer in myn 

hand,' quod she, 

* The nexte thing that I requere thee. 
Thou shalt it do, if it lye in thy might; 
And I wol telle it^yow er it be night.' 

* Have heer my trouthe,' quod the knight, 

* I grante.' 

* Thanne,' quod she, ' I dar me wel 

avante. 
Thy lyf is sauf, for I wol stonde therby; 
Up-on my lyf, the queen wol seye as I. i6o 
Lat see which is the proudeste of hem alle, 
That wereth on a coverchief or a calle,i 
That dar seye nay, of that I shal thee 

teche ; 
Lat us go forth with-outen lenger speche.' 
Tho rouned she a pisteP in his ere. 
And bad him to be glad, and have no fere. 
Whan they be comen to the court, this 
knight 
Seyde he had holde his day as he hadde 

hight,^ 
And redy was his answere, as he sayde. 
Ful many a noble wyf, and many a 
mayde, 170 

And many a widwe, for that they ben wyse. 
The queue hir-self sittinge as a justyse. 
Assembled been, his answere for to here; 
And afterward this knight was bode appere. 

To every wight comanded was silence. 
And that the knight sholde telle in audi- 
ence, 
What thing that worldly wommen loven 
best. 
1 This knight ne stood nat stille as doth a 
best, 
But to his questioun anon answerde 
1 With manly voys, that al the court it 
herde: 180 

' My lige lady, generally,' quod he, 
' Wommen desyren to have sovereyntee 
As wel over hir housbond as hir love. 
And for to been in maistrie him above; 
This is your moste desyr, thogh ye me kille, 
Doth as yow list, I am heer at your wille.' 
In al the court ne was ther wyf ne mayde, 
1 Ne widwe, that contraried that he sayde, 
I But seyden he was worthy ban his lyf. 
I And with that word up stirte the olde 

' wyf, 190 

Which that the knight saugh sittinge in 
the grene: 

* Mercy,' quod she, * my sovereyn lady 

queue ! 
1 caul, head-dress. 2 whispered a tale. ^ promised. 



Er that your court departe, do me right. 
I taughte this answere un-to the knight; 
For which he plighte me his trouthe there, 
The firste thing I wolde of him requere, 
He wolde it do, if it lay in his might. 
Bifore the court than preye I thee, sir 

knight,' 
Quod she, 'that thou me take un-to thy 

wyf; 
For wel thou wost that I have kept thy 

lyf. 200 

If I sey fals, sey nay, up-on thy fey! * 
This knight answerde, ' Alias! and weyla- 

wey! 
I woot right wel that swich was my bi- 

heste.4 
For Goddes love, as chees a newe requeste; 
Tak al my good, and lat my body go.' 
* Nay than,' quod she, * I shrewe us bothe 

two! 
For thogh that I be foul, and old, and pore, 
I nolde for al the metal, ne for ore, 
That under erthe is grave, or lyth above, 
But-if thy wyf I were, and eek thy love.' 
'My love V ' quod he; 'nay, my dampna- 

cioun! 211 

Alias! that any of my nacioun 
Sholde ever so foule disparaged be!' 
But al for noght, the ende is this, that he 
Constreyned was, he nedes moste hir 

wedde; 
And taketh his olde wyf, and gooth to 

bedde. 
Now wolden som men seye, paraventure, 
That, for m}' necligence, I do no cure 
To tellen yow the joye and al th array 
That at the feste was that ilke day. 220 

To whiche thing shortly answere I shal; 
I seye, ther nas no joye ne feste at al, 
Ther nas but hevinesse and muche sorwe; 
For prively he wedded hir on a morwe, 
And al day after hidde him as an oule; 
So wo was him, his wyf looked so foule. 
Greet was the wo the knight hadde in 

his thoght. 
Whan he was with his wyf a-bedde y- 

broght; 
He walweth,^ and he turneth to and fro. 
His olde wyf lay smylinge evermo, 230 

And seyde, ' O dere housbond, benedicite ! 
Fareth every knight thus with his wyf as 

ye? 
Is this the lawe of king Arthnres hotis ? 
Is every knight of his so dangerous ? ^ 
* promise. * wallows, turns. e distant. 



154 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



I am your owene love and eek your wyf ; 
I am she which that saved hath your lyf ; 
And certes, yet dide I yow never unright; 
Why fare ye thus with me this firste night? 
Ye faren lyk a man had lost his wit; 
What is my gilt ? for Goddes love, tel me 
it, 240 

And it shal been amended, if I may.' 

'Amended?' quod this knight, 'alias! 



nay, nay 



It wol nat been amended never mo! 
Thou art so loothly, and so old also, 
And ther-to comen of so lowe a kinde, 
That litel wonder is, thogh I walwe and 

winde.^ 
So wolde God myn herte wolde breste! ' 
'Is this,' quod she, 'the cause of your 

unreste ? ' 
' Ye, certainly,' quod he, ' no wonder is.' 
' Now, sire,' quod she, ' I coude amende 
al this, 250 

If that me lists, er it were dayes three, 
So wel ye mighte bere yow un-to me. 

But for ye speken of swich gentillesse 
As is descended out of old richesse, 
That therfore sholden ye be gentil men, 
Swich arrogance is nat worth an hen. 
Loke who that is most vertuous alway, 
Privee and apert, and most entendeth ay 
To do the gentil dedes that he can, 
And tak him for the grettest gentil man. 
Crist wol, we clay me of him our gentil- 
lesse, 261 
Nat of our eldres for hir old richesse. 
For thogh they yeve us al hir heritage, 
For which we clayme to been of heigh par- 

age,2 
Yet may they nat biquethe, for no-thing. 
To noon of us hir vertuous living. 
That made hem gentil men y-called be; 
And bad us folwen hem in swich degree. 

Wel can the wyse poete of Florence, 
That highte Dant, speken in this sentence; 
Lo in swich maner rym^ is Dautes tale: 271 
"Ful selde^ up ryseth by his branches 

sraale 
Prowesse of man; for God, of his good- 

nesse, 
Wol that of him we clayme our gentil- 
lesse;" 
For of our eldres may we no-thing clayme 
But temporel thing, that man may hurte 
and mayme. 



1 twist. 
» rhyme. 



Ptir gator io, VII, 121. 



2 kindred. 
^ seldom. 



Eek every wight wot this as wel as I, 
If gentillesse were planted naturelly 
Un-to a certeyn linage, doun the lyne, 
Privee ne apert, than wolde they never 



fyne 



280 



To doon of gentillesse the faire ofpyce; 
They mighte do no vileinye or vyce. 

Tak fyr, and ber it in the derkeste hous 
Bitwix this and the mount of Caucasus, 
And lat men shette the dores and gothenne; 
Yet wol the fyr as faire lye and brenne, 
As twenty thousand men mighte it biholde; 
His office naturel ay wol it holde, 
Up peril of my lyf, til that it dye. 

Heer may ye see wel, how that genterye 
Is nat annexed to possessioun, 291 

Sith folk ne doon hir operacioun 
Alwey, as dooth the fyr, lo! in his kinde. 
For, God it woot, men may wel often finde 
A lordes sone do shame and vileinye ; 
And he that wol han prys of his gentrye 
For he was boren of a gentil hous. 
And hadde hise eldres noble and vertuous, 
And nil him-selven do no gentil dedis, 
Ne folwe his gentil auncestre that deed is. 
He nis nat gentil, be he duk or erl; 301 

For vileyns sinful dedes make a cherl. 
For gentillesse nis but renomee ^ 
Of thyne auncestres, for hir heigh bountee, 
Which is a strange thing to thy persone. 
Thy gentillesse cometh fro God allone; 
Than comth our verray gentillesse of grace, 
It was no-thing biquethe us with our place. 

Thenketh how noble, as seith Valerius,"^ 
Was thilke Tullius Hostilius, 310 

That out of povert roos to heigh noblesse. 
Redeth Senek, and redeth eek Boece, 
Ther shul ye seen expres that it no drede ^ 

is, 
That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis; 
And therfore, leve housbond, I thus con- 
clude, 
Al were it that myne auncestres were rude, 
Yet may the hye God, and so hope I, 
Grante me grace to liven vertuously. 
Thanne am I gentil, whan that I biginne 
To liven vertuously and weyve^ sinne. 320 

And ther-as ye of povert me repreve, 
The hye God, on whom that we bileve, 
In wilful povert chees to live his lyf. 
And certes every man, raayden, or wyf, 

B cease. 

6 renown. 

7 Valerius Maximus (first century a.d.) bk. Ill, 
chap. 4, of hie De Factis Dictisque MemorabUibus. 

8 doubt. 9 shun. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 



55 



May understonde that Jesus, hevene king, 
Ne wolde iiat chese a vicious living. 
Glad povert is an honest thing, certeyn; 
This wol Senek and othere clerkes seyn. 
Who-so that halt Iiim payd^ of his poverte, 
I holde him riche, al hadde he nat a sherte, 
He that coveyteth is a povre wight, 331 
For he wolde han that is nat in his might. 
But he that noght hath, ne coveyteth have, 
Is riche, al-though ye holde him but a 

knave. 
Verray povert, it singeth proprely; 
Juvenal seith of povert merily: 
" The povre man, whan he goth by the weye, 
Bifore the theves he may singe and pleye." ^ 
Povert is hateful good, and, as I gesse, 
A ful greet bringer out of bisinesse; 340 
A greet araender eek of sapience 
To him that taketh it in pacience.^ 
Povert is this, al-though it seme elenge ^ 
Possessioun, that no wight wol chalenge. 
Povert ful ofte, whan a man is lowe, 
Maketh his God and eek hiui-self to knowe.® 
Povert a spectacle ^ is, as thinketh me, 
Thurgh which he may his verray frendes 

see. 
And therefore, sire, sin that I noght yow 

greve, 
Of my povert na-more ye me repreve. 350 

Now, sire, of elde'^ ye repreve me; 
And certes, sire, thogh noon auctoritee 
Were in no book, ye gentils of honour 
Seyn that men sholde an old wight doon 

favour, 
And clepe him fader, for your gentillesse; 
And auctours ^ shal I finden, as I gesse. 

Now therye seye that I am foul and old. 
Than drede you noght to be a coke wold; 
For filthe and elde, al-so mote I thee, 
Been grete wardeyns up-on chastitee. 360 
But nathelees, sin I knowe your delyt, 
1 shal fulfille your worldly appetyt. 

Chees now,' quod she, ' oon of thise 

thinges tweye, — 
To han me foul and old til that I deye, 
And be to yow a trewe humble wyf, 
And never yow displese in al my lyf. 
Or elles ye wol han me yong and fair. 
And take your aventure ^ of the repair 

1 pleased. 2 Juvenal's Satires, X, 22. 

' These sentiments are found in Vincent of Beauvais' 
Speculum Historiale, bk. X, chap. 71, and in other 
writers. * wearisome. 

s Causes a man to know himself and God. 

8 lens, pair of spectacles. ? age. 

8 authorities to support me in this. « risk. 



That shal be to your hous, by-cause of me, 
Or ixi som other place, may wel be. 370 

Now chees your-selven, whether 1° that yow 

lyketh.' 
This knight avyseth him and sore syk- 

eth,ii 
But atte laste he seyde in this manere, 
* My lady and my love, and wyf so dere, 
I put me in your wyse governance; 
Cheseth your-seK, which may be most ples- 

ance. 
And most honour to yow and me also. 
I do no fors the whether 12 of the two; 
For as yow lyketh, it suffiseth me.' 

' Thanne have I gete of yow maistrye,' 

quod she, 380 

' Sin I may chese, and governe as me lest ? ' 

'Ye, certes, wyf,' quod he, *I holde it 

best,' 
* Kis me,' quod she, * we be no lenger 

wrothe ; 
For, by my trouthe, I wol be to yow bothe, 
This is to seyn, ye, bothe fair and good. 
I prey to God that I mot sterven wood,^^ 
But I to yow be al-so good and trewe 
As ever was wyf, sin that the world was 

newe. 
And, but I be to-morn as fair to sene 
As any lady, emperyce, or queue, 390 

That is bitwixe the est and eke the west. 
Doth with my lyf and deeth right as yow 

lest. 
Cast up the curtin, loke how that it is.' 
And whan the knight saugh verraily al 

this, 
That she so fair was, and so yong ther-to, 
For joye he hente hir in his armes two, 
His herte bathed in a bath of blisse; 
A thousand tyme a-rewe ^^ he gan hir kisse. 
And she obeyed him in every thing 399 

That mighte doon him plesance or lyking. 
And thus they live, un-to hir lyves ende, 
In parfit joye; and Jesu Crist us sende 
Housbondes meke, yonge, and fresshe 

a-bedde. 
And grace t'overbyde ^^ hem that we wedde. 
And eek I preye Jesu shorte hir lyves 
That wol nat be governed by hir wyves; 
And olde and angry nigardes of dispence, 
God sende hem sone verray pestilence. 

Here endeth the Wyves Tale of Bathe. 



10 whichever of the two. 
12 I care not which. 
i< in succession. 



II sighs. 
13 die mad. 
15 outlive. 



THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE 



Many men seyn that in sweveninges ^ 

Ther nis but fables and lesinges ; ^ 

But men may somme swevenes seen, 

Which hardely ^ ne false been, 

But afterward ben apparaunte. 

This may I drawe to waraunte 

An authour, that hight Maerobes, 

That halt not dremes false ne lees,^ 

But undoth ^ us the avisioun 

That whylom mette king Cipioun.^ lo 

And who-so sayth, or weneth it be 
A jape, or elles nycetee ^ 
To wene that dremes after falle, 
Let who-so liste a fool me calle. 
For this trowe I, and say for me, 
That dremes signifiaunce be 
Of good and harme to many wightes, 
That dremen in her slepe a-nightes 
Ful many thinges covertly, 
That fallen after al openly. 20 

THE DREAM 

Within my twenty yere of age. 
Whan that Love taketh his corage "^ 
Of yonge folk, I wente sone 
To bedde, as I was wont to done, 
And fast I sleep; and in sleping, 
Me mette ^ swiche a svvevening, 
That lykede me wonders wel; 
But in that sweven is never a del 
That it nis afterward befalle, 
Right as this dreem wol telle us alle. 30 
Now this dreem wol I ryme aright, 
To make your hertes gaye and light; 
For Love it prayeth, and also 
Commaundeth me that it be so. 
And if ther any aske me, 
Whether that it be he or she. 
How this booke which is here 
Shall hatte,9 that I rede you here; 
It is the Romance of the Rose, 
In which al the art of love I close. 40 

The mater fair is of to make; 
God graunte in gree i'^ that she it take 
For whom that it begonnen is ! 
And that is she that hath, y-wis, 

1 dreams. * lies. ^ surely. * explains. « The 
Somnium Scipionis of Cicero, known in the commen- 
tary by Macrobius (fl. 400 a.d.). s A joke or a silly thing. 
» liking. 8 I dreamed. 9 be called. "> favor. 



So mochel prys; and ther-to she 

So worthy is biloved be, 

That she wel oughte, of prys and right, 

Be cleped Rose of every wight. 

That it was May me thoughte tho — 
It is fyve yere or more ago; 50 

That it was May, thus dremed me, 
In tyme of love and jolitee. 
That al thing ginneth waxen gay. 
For ther is neither busk nor hay ^^ 
In May, that it nil shrouded been, 
And it with newe leves wreen.^^ 
These wodes eek recoveren grene. 
That drye in winter been to sene; 
And th' erthe wexeth proud withalle, 
For swote ^^ dewes that on it falle, 60 

And al the pore estat forget 
In which that winter hadde it set; 
And than bicoraeth the ground so proud 
That it wol have a newe shroud, 
And maketh so queynt his robe and fayr 
That it hath hewes an hundred payr 
Of gras and fioures, inde and pers,i^ 
And many hewes ful dyvers: 
That is the robe I mene, y-wis. 
Through which the ground to preisen is. 70 

The briddes, that han left hir song, 
Whyl they han suffred cold so strong 
In wedres ^^ grille,^^ and derk to sighte, 
Ben in May, for the sonne brighte. 
So glade, that they she we in singing 
That in hir herte is swich lyking 
That they mote singen and be light. 
Than doth the nightingale hir might 
To make noyse, and singen blythe. 
Than is blisful, many a sythe,^'^ 80 

The chelaundre ^^ and the papingay.^® 
Than yonge folk entenden ^o ay 
For to ben gay and amorous, 
The tyme is than so savorous.^i 
Hard is his herte that loveth nought 
In May, whan al this mirth is wrought; 
Whan he may on these braunches here 
The smale briddes singen clere 
Hir blisful swete song pitous; 
And in this sesoun delitous,^^ ^ 

11 bush nor hedge. 12 cover, i3 sweet. 1* dark 
blue and light blue. ^^ storms. 16 savage, i^ time. 
18 a kind of lark. ^9 properly parrot; here green wood- 
pecker. 20 are disposed. 21 pleasant. 22 delightful. 



THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE 



157 



Whan love affrayeth ^ alle thing, 

Me thoughte a-night, in my sleping, 

Kight in my bed, ful redily. 

That it was by the Tnorowe erly, 

And up I roos and gan me clothe ; 

Anoon I wissh 2 myn hondes bothe; 

A sylvre nedle forth I drogh 
I Out of an aguiler ^ queynt y-nogh, 
; And gan this nedle threde anou; 
j For out of toun me list to gon 100 

i The sowne of briddes for to here, 
I That on thise busshes singen clere. 
: And in the swete sesoun that leef * is, 
j With a threde basting my slevis,^ 
I Aloon I wente in my playing, 
j The smale foules song harkuing; 

That peyned hem ^ ful many a payre 

To singe on bowes blosmed fayre. 
I Jolif and gay, ful of gladuesse, 
j Toward a river I gan me dresse, no 

That I herde renne faste by; 
j For fairer playing non saugh I 
I Than play en me by that riveer, 
i For from an hille that stood ther neer 
' Cam doun the streem ful stif and bold. 
I Cleer was the water, and as cold 

As any welle is, sooth to seyne ; 

And somdel lasse it was than Seine, 

But it was straighter wel away. 

And never saugh I, er that day, 120 

The water that so wel lyked^ me; 

And wonder glad was I to see 

That lusty place, and that riveer; 

And with that water that ran so cleer 

My face I wissh. Tho saugh I wel 

The botme paved everydel 

With gravel, ful of stones shene. 

The medewe softe, swote, and grene, 

Beet ^ right on the water-syde. 

Ful cleer was than the morow-tyde, 130 

And ful attempre,^ out of drede. 

Tho gan I walke through the mede, 

Dounward ay in my pleying, 

The river-syde costeying.^*^ 

THE GARDEN 
And whan I had a whyle goon, 
I saugh a Gardin right anoon, 
Ful long and brood, and everydel 
Enclosed was, and walled wel, 
With hye walles embatailled. 
Portrayed without, and wel entailled ^^ 140 

1 distracts. 2 washed. s needle-case. * dear. 
B They often sewed on the long drooping sleeves each 
time the garment was donned. 6 took pains. ^ pleased. 
8 Impinged. « temperate. 10 coasting, following 
along. 11 decorated. 



With many riche portraitures ; 

And bothe images and peyntures 

Gan I biholde bisily. 

And I wol telle you, redily. 

Of thilke images the semblaunce, 

As f er as I have remembraunce. 

HATE 

A-midde saugh I Hate stonde. 
That for hir wrathe, ire, and onde,^ 
Semed to been a moveresse,^^ 
An angry wight, a chideresse ; ^^ 150 

And ful of gyle, and fel corage,^^ 
By semblauut was that ilke image. 
And she was no-thing wel arrayed, 
But lyk a wood^^ womman af rayed; 
Y-frounced i" f oule was hir visage, 
And grenning i^ for dispitous ^^ rage; 
Hir nose snorted up for tene.^** 
Ful hidous was she for to sene, 
Ful foul and rusty was she, this. 
Hir heed y-writhen ^^ was, y-wis, i6o 

Ful grimly with a greet towayle. 

FELONYE 
An image of another eutayle,^^ 
A lift half,^^ was hir faste by: 
Hir name above hir heed saugh I, 
And she was called Felonye. 

VILANYE 

Another image, that Vilanye 
Y-cleped was, saugh I and fond 
Upon the walle on hir right bond. 
Vilanye was lyk somdel -^ 
That other image; and, trusteth wel, 170 
She semed a wikked creature. 
By countenaunce, in portrayture, 
She semed be ful despitous. 
And eek ful proud and outrageous. 
Wel coude he peynte, I undertake. 
That swiche image coude make. 
Ful foul and cherlish semed she, 
And eek vilaynous for to be, 
And litel coude of norture. 
To worshipe any creature.^^ jgo 

\^The descriptions of Covetousness, Ava- 
rice, Envy, and Poverty are omitted.'] 

Tho gan I go a ful gret pas 
Envyroning even in compas ^^ 
The closing of the square wal. 
Til that I fond a wiket smal 

12 malice. is fomentress of quarrels. ^* scolder. 
15 bad disposition, is mad. i' wrinkled, i^ grinning. 
19 spiteful. 20 vexation. 21 encircled. 22 fashion. 23 On 
the left side. 24 somewhat. 25 knew little of manners 
to be polite to any. 26 Going quite about the circuit. 



158 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



So shet, that I ne mighte in goon, 

And other entree was ther noon. 530 

THE DOOR 

Upon this dore I gan to smyte, 
That was [so] fetys^ and so lyte; 
For other wey coude I not sake. 
Ful long I shoof,2 and knokked eke, 
And stood ful long and oft herkning 
If that I herde a wight coming; 
Til that the dore of thilke entree 
A mayden curteys opened me. 

YDELNESSE 

Hir heer was as yelowe of hewe 

As any basin ^ scoured newe. 540 

Hir flesh [as] tendre as is a chike, 

With bente "^ browes, smothe and slike; 

And by mesure large were 

The opening of hir yen clere. 

Hir nose of good proporcioun, 

Hir yen greye as a faucoun, 

With swete breeth and wel savoured. 

Hir face whyt and wel coloured, 

With litel mouth, and round to see; 

A clove ° chin eek hadde she. 550 

Hir nekke was of good fasoun 

In lengthe and gretnesse, by resoun, 

Withoute bleyne, scabbe, or royne.^ 

Fro Jerusalem unto Burgoyne 

Ther nis a fairer nekke, y-wis, 

To fele how smothe and softe it is. 

Hir throte, al-so whyt of hewe 

As snow on braunche snowed newe. 

Of body ful wel wrought was she; 

Men neded not, in no cuntree, 560 

A fairer body for to seke. 

And of f yn orf rays '^ had she eke 

A chapelet: so semly oon 

Ne wered never mayde upon; 

And faire above that chapelet 

A rose gerland had she set. 

She hadde [in honde] a gay ^ mirour, 

And with a riche gold tressour ^ 

Hir heed was tressed queyntely; 

Hir sieves sewed fetisly. 570 

And for to kepe hir hondes faire 

Of gloves whyte she hadde a paire. 

And she hadde on a cote of grene 

Of cloth of Gaunt ; ^° withouten wene,^^ 

Wel semed by hir apparayle 

1 well-made. 2 shoved. ' The basin would be of 
latten. ^ arched. ^ cloven, i.e. dimpled. 6 roughness. 

I gold-work. 8 pretty. » head-dress, caul, i" Ghent. 

II beyond doubt. 



She was not wont to greet travayle. 

For whan she kempt ^'^ was fetisly, 

And wel arayed and richely, 

Thanne had she doon al hir journee; ^^ 

For mery and wel bigoon ^^ was she. 580 

She ladde a lusty lyf in May, 

She hadde no thought, by night ne day, 

Of no-thing, but it were oonly 

To graythe ^^ hir wel and uncouthly.i^ 

Whan that this dore hadde opened me 
This mayden, semely for to see, 
I thanked hir as I best mighte, 
And axede hir how that she highte,^"^ 
And what she was, I axede eke. 
And she to me was nought unmeke, 590 
Ne of hir answer daungerous,^^ 
But faire answerde, and seide thus : — 
' Lo, sir, my name is Ydelnesse ; 
So clepe men me, more and lesse. 
Ful mighty and ful riche am I, 
And that of oon thing, namely; ^^ 
For I entende ^° to no-thing 
But to my joye, and my pleying. 
And for to kembe and tresse ^^ me. 
Aqueynted am I, and privee 600 

With Mirthe, lord of this gardyn, 
That fro the lande Alexandryn 
Made the trees be hider fet. 
That in this gardin been y-set. 
And when the trees were woxen 22 on highte, 
This wal, that stant here in thy sighte, 
Dide Mirthe enclosen^s al aboute; 
And these images, al withoute. 
He dide hem bothe entaile ^4 and peynte, 
That neither ben jolyf ne qtieynte, 610 

But they ben ful of sorowe and wo, 
As thou hast seen a whyle ago. 

' And ofte tyme, him to solace. 
Sir Mirthe cometh into this place. 
And eek with him cometh his meynee, 
That liven in lust and jolitee. 
And now is Mirthe therin, to here 
The briddes, how they singen clere, 
The mavis and the nightingale. 
And other joly briddes smale. 620 

And thus he walketh to solace 
Him and his folk; for swetter place 
To pleyen in he may not finde, 
Although he soughte oon in-til Inde. 
The alther-f airest ^^ folk to see 
That in this world may f ounde be 

12 combed, dressed. is day's work. 1* satisfied. 
15 clothe. 16 rarely. i^ was called. is haughty. 
19 especially. 20 apply myself. 21 do niy hair. 

22 waxed. *3 had it enclosed. 24 carve. 25 fairest 
of all. 



THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE 



159 



Hath Mirthe with him in his route, 
That foloweu him alwayes aboute.' 
When Ydelnesse had told al this, 
And I hadde herkned wel, y-wis, 630 

Than seide I to dame Ydelnesse, 
* Now al-so wisly ^ God me blesse, 
Sith Mirthe, that is so fair and free, 
Is in this yerde with bis raeynee,^ 
Fro thilke assemblee, if I may, 
Shal no man werne ^ me to-day, 
That I this night ne mote it see. 
For, wel wene I, ther with him be 
A fair and joly companye 
Fulfilled of alle curtesye.' 640 

And forth, without wordes mo. 
In at the wiket wente I tho, 
That Ydelnesse hadde opened me, 
Into that gardin fair to see. 

THE GARDEN 

And whan I was [ther]in, y-wis, 
Myn herte was ful glad of this. 
For wel wende I ful sikerly 
Have been in paradys erth[e]ly; 
So fair it was, that, trnsteth wel, 
It semed a place espirituel. 650 

For certes, as at my devys, 
Tlier is no place in paradys 
So good in for to dwelle or be 
As in that Gardin, thoughte me; 
For there was many a brid singing. 
Throughout the yerd al thringing.^ 
In many places were nightingales, 
Alpes,^ finches, and wodewales,^ 
That in her swete song delyten 
In thilke place as they baby ten. '^ 660 

Ther mighte men see many flokkes 
Of turtles and [of] laverokkes. 
Chalaundres ^ fele saw I there, 
That wery, nigh f orsongen ^ were. 
And thrustles, terins,^" and mavys,ii 
That songen for to winne hem prys,'^ 
And eek to sormounte in hir song 
These other briddes hem among. 
By note made fair servyse 
These briddes, that I you devyse; 670 

They songe hir song as faire and wel 
As angels doon espirituel. 
And, trusteth wel, whan I hem herde, 
Full lustily and wel I ferde; 
For never yit swich melodye 
Was herd of man that mighte dye. 

1 so sure as. 2 retinue. 3 forbid. * thronging. 
6 Bullfinches. 6 green woodpeckers. ^ in that place 
which they inhabit. « Larks. 9 sung out. 10 tarins, 
siskins. ^^ song-thrush. 12 reputation. 



Swich swete song was hem among, 

That me thoughte it no briddes song, 

But it was wonder lyk to be 

Song of mermaydens of the see; 680 

That, for her singing is so clere. 

Though we mermaydens clepe hem here 

In English, as in our usaunce. 

Men clepe[n] hem sereyns ^^ in Fraunce. 

Ententif ^^ wereu for to singe 
These briddes that nought unkunninge 
Were of hir craft, and apprentys. 
But of [hir] song sotyl and wys. 
And certes, whan I herde hir song. 
And saw the grene place among, 690 

In herte I wex so wonder gay. 
That I was never erst, er that day. 
So jolyf, nor so wel bigo, 
Ne mery in herte, as I was tho. 
And than wiste I, and saw ful wel. 
That Ydelnesse me served wel. 
That me putte in swich jolitee. 
Hir freend wel oughte I for to be, 
Sith she the dore of that gardyn 
Hadde opened, and me leten in. 700 

From hennesforth how that I wroughte, 
I shal you tellen, as me thoughte. 
First, whereof Mirthe served ^^^ there. 
And eek what folk ther with liim were, 
Without[e] fable I wol descryve. 
And of that gardin eek as bly ve ^^ 
I wol you tellen after this. 
The faire fasoun al, y-wis, 
That wel [y-] wrought was for the nones, 
I may not telle you al at ones: 710 

But as I may and can, I shal 
By ordre tellen you it al. 

Ful fair servyse and eek ful swete 
These briddes maden as they sete. 
Layes of love, ful wel sowning 
They songen in hir jargoning; 
Summe highe and summe eek lowe songe 
Upon the braunches grene y-spronge. 
The sweetnesse of hir melodye 
Made al myn herte in reverdye.^'^ 720 

And whan that I hadde herd, I trowe. 
These briddes singing on a rowe. 
Than mighte I not withholde me 
That I ne wente ^^ in for to see 
Sir Mirthe ; for my desiring 
Was him to seen, over alle thing. 
His countenaunce and his manere: 
That sighte was to me ful dere. 



13 sirens. i* Eager. is employed himself. 

16 inunediately. i'' rejoicing. is from going. 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 



THE PROEM 

The lyf so short, the craft so long to 

lerne, 
Th'assay so hard, so sharp the conquering, 
The dredful joye, that alwey slit so yerne/ 
Al this mene I by love, that my feling 
Astonyeth with his wonderful worching 
So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thiuke, 
Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or wiuke. 

For al be that I knowe not love in dede, 
Ne wot how that he quyteth folk hir hyre, 
Yet happeth me f ul of te in bokes rede lo 
Of his miracles, and his cruel yre; 
Ther rede I wel he wol be lord and syre, 
I dar not seyn, his strokes been so sore. 
But God save swich a lord ! I can no more. 

Of usage, what for luste what for lore,^ 
On bokes rede I ofte, as I yow tolde. 
But wherfor that I speke al this ? Not yore 
Agon hit happed me for to beholde 
Upon a boke, was write with lettres olde; 
And ther-upon, a certeyn thing to lerne, 20 
The louge day ful faste I radde and yerne.^ 

For out of olde feldes, as men seith, 
Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere; 
And out of olde bokes, in good feith, 
Cometh al this newe science that men lere.^ 
But now to purpos as of this matere — 
To rede forth hit gan me so delyte, 
That al the day me thoughte but a lyte. 

This book of which I make mencioun, 
Entitled was al thus, as I shal telle, 30 

*Tullius of the dreme of Scipioun';^ 
Chapitres seven hit hadde, of hevene and 

helle, 
And erthe, and soules that therinne dwelle, 
Of whiche, as shortly as I can hit trete, 
Of his sentence I wol you seyn the grete.^ 

1 slideth, slips away, so soon. 

2 Habitually, sometimes for pleasure, sometimes for 
edification. 

3 I read closely and eagerly. * learn. 

5 Cicero's Sonuimm Scipionis in the commentary of 
Macrobius. See line 111, below. e gist. 



First telleth hit, whan Scipioun was come 
In Afrik, how he mette Massinisse, 
That him for joye in armes hath y-nome.' 
Than telleth hit hir speche and al the blisse 
That was betwix hem, till the day gan 
misse ; ^ 40 

And how his auucestre, African so dere, 
Gan in his slepe that night to him appere. 

Than telleth hit that, fro a sterry place, 
How African hath him Cartage shewed. 
And warned him before of al his grace. 
And seyde him, what man, lered other ! 

lewed, 
That loveth comun profit, wel y-thewed,^ 
He shal unto a blisful place wende, 
Ther as joye is that last withouten ende. 

Than asked he if folk that heer be dede 50 
Have lyf and dwelling in another place; 
And African seyde, ' Ye, withoute drede,' 
And that our present worldes lyves space 
Nis but a maner deth, what wey we trace. 
And rightful folk shal go, after they dye. 
To heven; and shewed him the galaxye. 

Than shewed he him the litel erthe, that 

heer is, 
At regard of ^"^ the hevenes quantite; 
And after shewed he him the nyne speres,^^ 
And after that the melodye herde he 60 
That Cometh of thilke speres thryes three, 
The welle ^ is of musyke and melodye 
In this world heer, and cause of armonye. 

Than bad he him, sin erthe was so lyte. 
And ful of torment and of harde grace, 
That he ne shulde him in the world delyte. 
Than tolde he him, in certyn yeres space. 
That every sterre shulde come into his place 
Ther hit was first ; and al shulde ^^ out of 
minde 69 

That in this worlde is don of al mankinde. 

Than prayde him Scipioun to telle him al 
The wey to come un-to that hevene blisse; 

7 taken. » fail. » virtuous. 10 As compared 
with. 11 spheres. 12 source. " Supply " depart." 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 



i6i 



And he seyde, 'Know thy-self first im- 
mortal, 
And loke ay besily thou werke and wisse^ 
To comun profit, aiiU thou shalt nat misse 
To comen swiftly to that place dere. 
That f ul of blisse is and of soules clere. 

But brekers of the lawe, soth to seyne, 
And lecherous folk, after that they be 

dede, 79 

Shul alwey whirle aboute th'erthe in peyne, 
Til many a world be passed, out of drede, 
And than, f or-yeven alle hir wikked dede, 
Than shul they come unto that blisful 

place, 
To which to comen God thee sende his 

grace ! ' — 

The day gan failen, and the derke night, 
That reveth bestes from hir besinesse, 
Berafte me my book for lakke of light, 
And to my bedde I gan me for to dresse, 
Fulfild of thought and besy hevinesse; 
For bothe I hadde thing which that I 

nolde, 90 

And eek I ne hadde that thing that I 

wolde. 

But fynally my spirit, at the laste, 
For-wery of my labour al the day. 
Took rest, that made me to slepe faste, 
And in my slepe I mette,^ as I lay, 
How African, right in that selfe aray 
That Scipioun him saw before that tyde, 
Was comen, and stood right at my beddes 
syde. 

The wery hunter, slepinge in his bed. 
To wode ayein his minde goth anoon ; 100 
The juge dremeth how his plees ben sped; 
The carter dremeth how his cartes goon; 
The riche, of gold; the knight fight with 

his foon,^ 
The seke met he drinketh of the tonne; 
The lover met he hath his lady wonne. 

Can I nat seyn if that the cause were 
For I had red of African beforn, 
That made me to mete that he stood there ; 
But thus seyde he, ' Thou hast thee so wel 

born 
In loking of myn olde book to-torn, no 

Of which Macrobie roghte nat a lyte, 
That soradel of thy labour wolde I quyte ! ' — 
1 teach. » dreamed. 3 foes. A.S. gefan. 



Citherea ! thou blisful lady swete, 

That with thy fyr-brand dauntest whom 

thee lest, 
And madest me this sweven for to mete, 
Be thou my help in this, for thou mayst 

best; 
As wisly as I saw thee north-north-west, 
When I began my sweven for to wryte, 
So yif me might to ryme hit and endyte ! 



THE STORY 

This forseid African me hente anoon, 120 
And forth with him unto a gate broghte 
Right of a parke, walled with grene stoon; 
And over the gate, with lettres large y- 

wroghte, 
Ther weren vers y-writen, as me thoghte, 
On eyther halfe, of ful gret difference, 
Of which I shal yow sey the pleyn sen- 
tence. 

*Thorgh me men goon in-to that blisful 
place 

Of hertes hele and dedly woundes cure; 

Thorgh me men goon unto the welle of 
Grace, 

Ther grene and lusty May shal ever en- 
dure ; 130 

This is the wey to al good aventure; 

Be glad, thou reder, and thy sorwe of- 
caste; 

Al open am I; passe in, and by the faste! ' 

'Thorgh me men goon,' than spak that 

other syde, 
' Unto the mortal strokes of the spere, 
Of which Disdayu and Daunger is the 

gyde, 
Ther tree shal never fruit ne leves here. 
This streem you ledeth to the sorwful 

were,* 
Ther as the fish in prison is al drye; 
Th'eschewing is only the remedye.' 140 

Thise vers of gold and blak y-writen were, 
The whiche I gan a stounde^ to beholde, 
For with that oon encresed ay my fere, 
And with that other gan myn herte bolde. 
That oon me hette, that other did me 

colde; 
No wit had I, for errour, for to chese, 
To entre or flee, or me to save or lese. 



4 fish-weir. 



5 a while. 



l62 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Right as, betwixen adamauntes^ two 

Of even might, a pece of ireu y-set. 

That hath no might to meve to ne fro — 150 

For what that on may hale, that other let — ^ 

Ferde I, that niste whether me was bet,^ 

To entre or leve, til African my gyde 

Me hente, and shoof '^ in at the gates wyde, 

And seyde, *Hit stondeth writen in thy 

face, 
Thyn errour, though thou telle it not to 

me; 
But dred thee nat to come in-to this place, 
For this wryting is no-thing ment by^ thee, 
Ne by noon, but he Loves servant be; 
For thou of love hast lost thy tast, I 

gesse, 160 

As seek man hath of swete and bitternesse. 

But natheles, al-though that thou be dulle, 
Yit that thou canst not do, yit mayst thou 

see; 
For many a man that may not stonde a 

pulle, 
Yit lyketh him at the wrastling for to be, 
And demeth yit wher he do bet or he; 
And if thou haddest cunning for t'endyte, 
I shal thee shewen mater of to wryte.' 

With that my hond in his he took anoon. 
Of which I comfort caughte, and wente in 

faste; 170 

But lord! so I was glad and wel begoon! ^ 
For over-al, wher that I myn eyen caste. 
Were trees clad with leves that ay shal 

laste, 
Eche in his kinde, of colour fresh and grene 
As emeraude, that joye was to sene. 

The bilder 00k, and eek the hardy asshe; 
The piler'^ elm, the cofre unto careyne;^ 
The boxtree piper ; ^ holm to whippes 

lasshe ; ^° 
The saylingii firr; the cipres, deth to 

pleyne; 179 

The sheter 12 ew, the asp for shaf tes pleyne ; 
The olyve of pees, and eek the drunken 

vyne, 
The victor palm, the laurer to devyne.^^ 

1 magnets. 2 one pulls, the other hinders. ' knew 
not which was better for me. * seized and shoved. 

6 concerning, 6 situated. ^ for posts. 8 coffins 
for corpses. ^ for making whistles. lo Apparently, 
furnishing handles for lashes. n good for masts. 

12 "shooter," because used for bows. i3 used in 

diviuation. 



A garden saw I, ful of blosmy bowes, 
Upon a river, in a grene mede, 
Ther as that swetnesse evermore y-now is, 
With floures whyte, blewe, yelowe, and 

rede; 
And colde welle-stremes, no-thing dede. 
That swommen ful of smale fisshes lighte. 
With finnes rede and scales silver-brighte. 

On every bough the briddes herde I singe, 
With voys of aungel in hir armonye, 191 
Som besyed hem hir briddes forth to 

bringe.^^ 
The litel conyes to hir pley gunne hye; 
And further al aboute I gan espye 
The dredf ul i^ roo, the buk, the hert and 

hinde, 
Squerels, and bestes smale of gentil kinde. 

Of instruments of strenges in acord 
Herde I so pleye a ravisshing swetnesse, 
That God, that maker is of al and lord, 
Ne herde never better, as I gesse; 200 

Therwith a wind, unnethe ^^ hit might be 



Made in the leves grene a noise softe 
Acordant to the foules songe on-lofte. 

The air of that place so attempre ^'^ was 
That never was grevaunce of hoot ne cold; 
Ther wex eek every holsom spyce and gras, 
Ne no man may ther wexe seek ne old; 
Yet was ther joye more a thousand fold 
Then man can telle; ne never wolde it 

nighte, 
But ay cleer day to any mannes sighte. 210 

Under a tree, besyde a welle, I say 
Cupyde our lord his arwes forge and fyle; 
And at his fete his bowe al redy lay; 
And wel his doghter tempred al the whyle 
The hedes in the welle, and with hir wyle ^^ 
She couched ^^ hem after as they shulde 

serve, 
Som for to slee, and som to wounde and 

kerve. 

Tho was I war of Plesaunce anon-right, 
And of Aray, and Lust, and Curtesye; 
And of the Craft that can and hath the 
might 220 

To doon by force a wight to do f olye — 
Disfigurat was she, I nil not lye; 



1* to rear their chicks. is timid. 

17 temperate. is guile, subtlety. 



16 hardly. 
19 arranged. 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 



163 



And by him-self, under an oke, I gesse, 
Savve I Delyt, that stood with Gentilnesse. 

I saw Beautee, withouten any atyr, 
And Youthe, fill of game and Jolyte, 
Fool-hardinesse, Flatery, and Desyr, 
Messagerye, and Made, and other three — 
Hir names shul noght here be told for 

me — 
And upon pilers grete of jasper longe 230 
I saw a temple of bras y-founded stronge. 

Aboute the temple dauneeden alway 
Wommen y-nowe, of whiche somme ther 

were 
Faire of hem-self, and somme of hem were 

gay;^ 

In kirtels, al disshevele, wente they there — 
That was hir office alwey, yeer by yere — 
And on the temple, of doves whyte and 

faire 
Saw I sittinge many a hundred paire. 

Before the temple-dore ful soberly 
Dame Pees sat, with a curteyn in hir 
bond : 240 

And hir besyde, wonder discretly, 
Dame Pacienee sitting ther I fond 
With face pale, upon an hille of sond ; 
And alder-next, within and eek withoute, 
Behest and Art, and of hir folke a route. 

Within the temple, of syglies bote as fyr 
I herde a swogh ^ that gan aboute renne ; 
WTiich syghes were engendred with desyr, 
That maden every auter for to brenue 
Of newe flaume; and wel aspyed I thenne 
That al the cause of sorwes that they 
drye^ 251 

Com of the bitter goddesse Jalousye. 

The god Priapus saw I, as I wente, 
Within the temple, in soverayn place stonde, 
In swich aray as whan the asse him shente 
With crye by night,^ and with his ceptre iA 
honde ; 
I Ful besily men gunne assaye and fonde 
Upon his hede to sette, of sondry he we, 
Garlondes ful of fresslie floures newe. 

And in a privee corner, in disporte, 260 

Foiid I Venus and hir porter Richesse, 
That was ful noble and hauteyn of hir porte. 



1 dressed-up. 
• suffer. 



i murmur. 

* Ovid's Fasti, I, 450. 



Derk was that place, but afterward light- 

nesse 
I saw a lyte, unnethe ^ hit might be lesse ; 
And on a bed of golde she lay to reste. 
Til that the bote sonne gan to weste. 

Hir gilte heres with a golden threde 
Y-bouuden were, untressed as she lay, 
And naked fro the breste unto the hede 
Men might hir see ; and, sothly for to say, 270 
The remenant wel kevered to my pay ^ 
Eight with a subtil kerchef of Valence,'^ 
Ther was no thikker cloth of no defence. 

The place yaf a thousand savours swote. 
And Bachus, god of wyn, sat hir besyde, 
And Ceres next, that doth of hunger bote;^ 
And, as I seide," amiddes lay Cipryde, 
To whom on knees two youge folkes cryde 
To ben hir help; but thus I leet hir lye. 
And ferther in the temple I gan espye 280 

That, in dispyte of Diane the chaste, 

Ful many a bowe y-broke heng on the wal 

Of maydens, suche as gimne hir tymes 

waste 
In hir servyse; and peynted over al 
Of many a story, of which I touche shal 
A fewe, as of CaHxte ^ and Athalaunte ^'^ 
And many a mayde of which the name I 

waute; 

Semyramus, Candace,^! and Ercules,. 
Biblis,^^ Dido, Tisbe and Piramus, 
Tristram, Isoude,^^ Paris, and Achilles, 290 
Eleyne,^"* Cleopatre, and Troilus, 
Silla,!^ and eek the moder of Romulus — 
Alle these were peynted on that other syde, 
And al hir love, and in what plyte they 
dyde. 

Whan I was come ayen into the place 
That I of spak, that was so swote and 

grene. 
Forth welk I tho, my-selven to solace. 
Tho was I war wher that ther sat a queue 
That, as of light the somer-sonne shene 
Passeth the sterre, right so over mesure 300 
She fairer was than any creature. 

5 scarcely. ^ content. ^ thin silk. s causes 
relief from hunger. 9 Callisto. 10 Atalanta, the 

fleet-footed. n An Indian queen who fascinated 

Alexander the Great. 12 Who loved vainly in Ovid's 
3fe/nmorphoses, IX. " Iseult. " Helen of Troy, 
or possibly Lancelot's Elaine. is Scylla of ilegara, 

whom Minos would not have. 



164 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



And in a laiinde, upon an hille of floures, 
Was set this noble goddesse Nature; 
Of braunches were hir halles and hir boures, 
Y-wrouglit after hir craft and hir mesure; 
Ne ther nas foul that cometh of engen- 

drure,! 
That they ne were prest ^ in hir presence, 
To take hir doom and yeve hir audience. 

For this was on seynt Valentynes day, 
Whan every foul cometh ther to chese 
his make, 310 

Of every kinde, that men thenke may; 
And that so huge a noyse gan they make, 
That erthe and see, and tree, and every lake 
So ful was, that unnethe was ther space 
For me to stonde, so ful was al the place. 

And right as Aleyn, in the Pleynt of Kinde,^ 

Devyseth Nature of aray and face. 

In swich aray men mighte[n] hir ther finds. 

This noble emperesse, ful of grace, 

Bad every foul to take his owne place, 320 

As they were wont alwey fro yeer to yere, 

Seynt Yalentynes day, to stonden there. 

That is to sey, the foiiles of ravyne * 
Were hyest set; and than the foules smale, 
That eten as hem nature wolde enclyne, 
As worm, or thing of whiche I telle no tale; 
But water-foul sat lowest in the dale; 
And foul that liveth by seed sat on the grene, 
And that so fele,^ that wonder was to sene. 

Ther mighte men the royal egle finde, 330 
That with his sharpe look perceth the Sonne; 
And other egles of a lower kinde, 
Of which that clerkes wel devysen conne. 
Ther was the tyraunt with his fethres donne 
And greye, I mene the goshauk, that doth 

pyne 
To briddes for his outrageous ravyne. 

The gentil fancon, that with his feet dis- 

treyneth ^ 
The kinges hond; the hardy sperhauk '^ eke. 
The quayles foo; the merlion ^ that peyneth 
Him-self ful ofte the larke for to seke ; 340 
Ther was the douve, with hir eyen meke; 
The jalous swan, ayens his deth that singeth ; 
The oule eek, that of dethe the bode 

bringeth; 

» begetting. 2 ready. « Alanus de Tnsulis' De 
Planctu Naturae (c. 1170). < birds of prey. 5 maoy. 
6 grasps. 7 sparrow-hawk. a the merlin. 



The crane the geaunt,^ with his trompes 
soune; 

The theef, the chogh;i<^ and eek the jang- 
ling "pye; 

The scorning jay; the eles foo, the heroune; 

The false lapwing, ful of trecherye ; ^^ 

Tlie stare,^^ that the counseyl can bewrye; ^^ 

The tame ruddck;^^ and the coward kyte; 

The cok, that orloge is of thorpes lyte; ^^ 350 

The sparow, Venus sone; the nightingale, 
Thatclepeth f orth ^'^ the fresshelevesnewe; 
The swalow, mordrer of the foules ^^ smale 
That maken hony of floures fresshe of he we; 
The wedded tiutel, with hir herte trewe; 
The pecok, with his aungels fethres brighte; 
The f esaunt, scorner of the cok by nighte ; 

The waker ^^ goos ; the cukkow ever im- 

kinde ; 2° 
The popinjay, ful of delicasye; ^i 
The drake, stroyer of his owne kinde; 360 
The stork, the wreker of avouterye ; 22 
The hote cormeraunt of glotonye; 
The raven wys, the crow with vois of care; 
The throstel olde; the f rosty ^3 feldefare. 

What shulde I seyn? Of foules every kinde 
That in this worlde ban fethres and stature. 
Men mighten in that place assembled finde 
Before the noble goddesse Nature. 
And everich of hem did his besy cure 
Benignely to chese or for to take, 370 

By hir acord, his f ormel ^^ or his make. 

But to the poynt — Nature held on hir honde 
A formel egle, of shap the gentileste 
That ever she among hir werkes fonde, 
The most benigne and the goodlieste; 
In hir was every vertu at his reste, 
So ferforth,^^ that Nature hir-self hadblisse 
To loke on hir, and ofte hir bek to kisse. 

Nature, the vicaire of th'alrayghty lorde, 
That hoot, cold, hevy, light, [and] moist 
and dreye 380 

Hath knit by even noumbre of aeorde, 
In esy vois began to speke and seye, 
* Foules, tak hede of my sentence, I preye, 

9 giant. 10 chough, crow. n chattering, 

12 because she misleads those seeking her nest. 

13 starling. " that tells tales. i^ robin redbreast. 
16 the timepiece of little villages. i^ announces. 

18 Another reading is flyes. is watchful. 20 xax- 
natural (about its eggs). 21 wantonness. 22 avenger 
of adultery. 23 Because he comes in the winter. 

24 the female of a bird of prey. 25 To such a degree. 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 



i6s 



And, for your ese, in furthering of your nede, 
As faste as I may speke, I wol me spede. 

Ye know wel how, seynt Valentynes day, 
By my statut and through my governaunce, 
Ye come for to chese — and flee your way — 
Your makes, as I prik yow with plesaunce. 
But natheles, my rightful ordenaunce 390 
May I not lete, for al this world to winne, 
That he that most is worthy shal beginne. 

The tercel ^ egle, as that ye knowen wel, 

The foul royal above yow in degree, 

The wyse and worthy, secree, trewe as stel, 

The which I formed have, as ye may see, 

In every part as hit best lyketh me, 

Hit nedeth noght his shap yow to devyse. 

He shal first chese and speken in his gyse.^ 

And after him, by order shul ye chese, 400 
After your kinde, everich as yow lyketh, 
And, as your hap is, shul ye wmne or lese; 
But which of yow that love most entry keth,^ 
God sende him hir that sorest for him sy keth.' 
And therwith-al the tercel gan she calle, 
And seyde, ' My sone, the choys is to thee 
falle. 

But natheles, in this condicioun 
Mot^ be the choys of everich that is here, 
That she agree to his eleccioun, 409 

Who-so he be that shulde been hir fere ; ^ 
This is our usage alwey, fro yeer to yere; 
And who so may at this time have his grace, 
In blisful tyme he com iu-to this place.' 

Withhed enclyned and withf ul humble chere 
This royal tercel spak and taried nought; 
* Unto my sovereyn lady, and noght my fere, 
I chese, and chese with wille and herte and 

thought, 
The f ormel on your bond so wel y-wrought, 
Whos I am al and ever wol hir serve. 
Do what hir list, to do me live or sterve. 420 

Beseching hir of mercy and of grace, 
As she that is my lady sovereyne; 
Or let me dye present in this place. 
For certes, long may I not live in peyne; 
For in myn herte is corven ^ every veyne ; 
Having reward "^ [al] only to my trouthe, 
My dere herte, have on my wo som routhe. 

1 the male of a bird of prey — perhaps so called 
because a third smaller than the female. * way. 
3 pesters. « must. 6 mate. « cut. 1 regard. 



And if that I to hir be founde untrewe, 
Disobey saunt, or wilful negligent, 
Avauntour,^ or in proces^ love a newe, 430 
I pray to you this be my jugement. 
That with these foules I be al to-rent. 
That ilke day that ever she me finde 
To hir untrewe, or in my gilte unkinde. 

And sin that noon loveth hir so wel as I, 
Al be she never of love me behette,^*' 
Than oghte she be myn thourgh hir mercy, 
For other bond can I noon on hir knette.^^ 
For never, for ne wo, ne shal I lette ^^ 439 
To serven hir, how fer so that she wende; 
Sey what yow list, my tale is at an ende.' 

Right as the fresshe, rede rose newe 
Ayen the somer-sonne coloured is, 
Right so for shame al wexen gan the hewe 
Of this formel, whan she lierde al this; 
She neyther answerde 'Wel,' ne seyde amis. 
So sore abasshed was she, til that Nature 
Seyde, * Doghter, drede yow noght, I yow 
assure.' 1^ 

Another tercel egle spak anoon. 
Of lower kinde, and seyde, ' That shal not 
be ; 450 

I love hir bet than ye do, by seynt John, 
Or atte leste I love hir as wel as ye; 
And lenger have served hir, in my degree, 
And if she shulde have loved for long loving, 
To me allone had been the guerdoning.^"* 

I dar eek seye, if she me finde fals, 

Unkinde, jaugler, or rebel any wyse. 

Or jalous, do me hongen by the hals ! 

And but I here me in hir servyse, 

As well as that my wit can me suffyse, 460 

Fro poynt to poynt, hir honour for to save, 

Tak she my life, and al the good^*^ I have.' 

The thridde tercel egle answerde tho,!^ 

* Now, sirs, 3'e seen the litel leyser^' here; 
For every foul cryeth out to been a-go 
Forth with his make, or with his lady dere; 
And eek Nature hir-self ne wol nought here, 
For tarying here, noght hal f that I wol de seye ; 
And but I speke, I mot for sorwe deye. 

Of long servyse avaunte I me no-thing, 470 

But as possible is me to dye to-day 

For wo, as he that hath ben languisshing 

8 boaster. • in time, i" promised. " knit. 12 cease. 
13 protect. " rewarding. ib goods. " then. ^^ leisure. 



i66 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Thise twenty winter, and wel happen may 
A man may serven bet and more to pay ^ 
In half a yere, al-though hit were no more, 
Than som man doth that hath served ful yore. 

I ne say not this by^ me, for I ne can 
Do no servyse that may my lady plese; 
But I dar seyn, I ana hir trewest man 479 
As to my dome, and fey nest wolde hir ese; 
At shorte wordes, til that deth me sese, 
I wol ben hires, whether I wake or winke, 
And trewe in al that herte may bethinke.' 

Of al my lyf, sin that day I was born, 
So gentil plee in love or other thing 
Ne herde never no man me beforn. 
Who [-so] that hadde leyser and cunning 
For to reherse hir chere and hir speking; 
And from the morwe gan this speche laste 
Til dounward drow the Sonne wonder 
faste. 490 

The noyse of foules for to ben delivered 
So loude rong, ' Have doon and let us wende ! ' 
That wel wende ^ I the wode had al to-shiv- 
ered. 
'Come of !'^ they cryde, 'alias! ye wil us 

shende ! 
When shal your cursed pleding have an 

ende ? 
How shulde a jnge eyther party leve,^ 
For yee or nay, with-outen any preve ? ' 

The goos, the cokkow, and the doke also 
So cryden ' Kek, kek! ' « Kukkow! ' ' Quek, 

quek! ' hye. 
That thorgh myn eres the noyse wente tho. 
The goos seyde, *A1 this nis not worth a 

flye! SOI 

But I can shape hereof a remedye, 
And I wol sey my verdit faire and swythe 
For water-foul, who-so be wrooth or blythe.' 

' And I for worm-foul,' seyde the fool cuk- 

kow, 
' For I wol, of myn owne auctorite, 
For comune spede, take the charge now, 
For to delivere us is gret charite.' 
' Ye may abyde a whyle yet, parde ! ' 
Seide the turtel, 'if hit be your wille 510 
A wight may speke, him were as good be 

stille.6 

1 please. 2 about. * thought. « Hurry up. b believe. 
6 if a man is to speak after your fashion, he might as 
well be silent. 



T am a seed-foul, oon the unworthieste, 
That wot I wel, and litel of kunninge; 
But bet is that a wightes tonge reste 
Than entremeten him "^ of such doinge 
Of which he neyther rede can nor singe. 
And who-so doth, ful f oule himself acloyeth,^ 
For office uncommitted ofte anoyeth.' ^ 

Nature, which that alway had an ere 

To murmour of the lewednes behinde, 520 

With facoundi*^ voys seide, 'Hold your 

tonges there! 
And I shal sone, I hope, a counseyl finde 
You to delivere, and fro this noyse unbinde; 
I juge, of every folk men shal oon calle 
To seyn the verdit for you foules alle.' 

Assented were to this conclusioun 
The briddes alle; and foules of ravyne 
Han chosen first, by pleyn eleccioun. 
The tercelet of the faucon, to diffyne 529 
Al hir sentence,!! and as him list, termyne ; ^^ 
And to Nature him gonnen^^ to presente, 
And she accepteth him with glad entente. 

The tercelet seide than in this manere: 
' Ful hard were hit to preve hit by resoun 
Who loveth best this gentil formel here; 
For everich hath swich replicacioun^^ 
That noon by skilles^^ may be broght a-doun; 
I can not seen that arguments avayle; 
Than semeth hit ther moste be batayle.* 

' Al redy! ' quod^^ these egles tercels tho. 
'Nay, sirs! 'quod he, *if that I dorste it 

seye, 54, 

Ye doon me wrong, my tale is not y-do! 
For sirs, ne taketh noght a-gref,!'^ I preye, 
It may noght gon, as ye wolde, in this weye; 
Oure is the voys that han the charge in 

honde, 
And to the juges dome ye moten stonde; 

And therfor pees! I seye, as to my wit. 
Me wolde thinke ^^ how that the worthieste 
Of knighthode, and lengest hath used hit,!^ 
Modte of estat, of blode the gentileste, 550 
Were sittingest^o for hir, if that hir leste; 
And of these three she wot hir-self, I trowe, 
Which that he be, for hit is light to knowe.' 

7 meddle. 8 overburdens. 

9 A proverb; cf. "Proffered service stinketh." 
10 fluent, ready. " their sentiments, iz determine. 
13 proceeded. 1^ repartee, is reasons, is quoth. 
1'' in bad part. is it would seem to me. i' Who 
has been longest a good knight. 20 most suitable. 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 



167 



The water-foules han her hedes leyd 
Togeder, and of short avysement, 
Whau everich had his large golee^ seyd, 
They seyden sothly, al by oon assent, 
How that *the goos, with hir facounde 

gent,2 
That so desyreth to pronounce our nede, 
Shal telle our tale,' and preyde *God hir 

spede.' 560 

And for these water-foules tho began 
The goos to speke, and iu hir cakelinge 
She seyde, 'Pees! now tak kepe^ every 

man, 
And herkeneth which a^ reson I shal 

bringe ; 
My wit is sharp, I love no taryinge ; 
I seye, I rede^ him, though he were my 

brother, 
But she wol love him, lat him love 

another! ' 

* Lo here! a parfit reson of a goos! ' 
Quod the sperhauk ; * never mot she thee ! " 
Lo, swich hit is to have a tonge loos! 570 
Now parde, fool, yet were hit bet for 

thee 
Have holde thy pees, than shewed thy 

nycete! ' 
Hit lyth not in his wit nor in his wille, 
But sooth is seyd, "a fool can noght be 

stille." ' 

The laughter aroos of gentil foules alle, 

And right anoon the seed-foul chosen 
hadde 

The turtel trewe, and giinne hir to hem 
calle, 

And preyden hir to seye the sothe sadde 

Of this matere, and asked what she radde; 

And she answerde, that pleynly hir en- 
tente 580 

She wolde shewe, and sothly what she mente. 

' Nay, God forbede a lover shulde chaunge! ' 
The turtel seyde, and wex for shame al 
reed; 

* Thogh that his lady ever-more be straunge. 
Yet let him serve hir ever, til he be deed; 
For sothe, I preyse noght the gooses reed; 
For thogh she deyed, 1 wolde none other 

make, 
I wol ben hires, til that the deth me take.' 

1 gobble, lit. mouthful. 2 gentle eloquence. ^ pay 
heed. « what sort of. ^ advise. ^ thrive. ^ folly. 



'Wei bourded!'^ quod the doke, 'by my 

hat! 
That men shulde alwey loven, causeles, ^590 
Who can a reson fiude or wit in that ? 
Daunceth he mury that is mirtheles ? 
Who shulde recche of that is reecheles ? 
Ye, quek! ' yit quod the doke, ful wel and 

faire, 
' There been mo sterres, God wot, than a 

pairel ' 

' Now fy, cherl! ' quod the gentil tercelet, 
'Out of the dunghil com that word ful 

right. 
Thou canst noght see which thing is wel 

be-set: 
Thou farest by love as oules doon by light, 
The day hem blent,^ ful wel they see by 

night; 600 

Thy kind is of so lowe a wrechednesse, 
That what love is, thou canst nat see ne 



Tho gan the cukkow putte him forth in 

prees 
For foul that eteth worm, and seide blyve,^*^ 
So I,' quod he, ' may have my make ^^ in 

pees, 
I recche not how longe that ye stryve; 
Lat ecli of hem be soleyni- al hir lyve, 
This is my reed, sin they may not acorde; 
This shorte lesson nedeth noght recorde.' ^^ 

' Ye I have the glotoun fild ynogh his 

paunche, 610 

Than are we wel! ' seyde the merlioun; 
' Thou mordrer of the heysugge 1* on the 

braunche 
That broghte thee forth, thou rewthelees 

glotoun ! 
Live thou soleyn,!^ wormes corrupcioun ! i^ 
For no fors is of lakke of thy nature ; ^^ 
Go, lewed be thou, whyl the world may 

dure! '^^ 

' Now pees,' quod Nature, * I comaunde 

here; 
For I have herd al your opinioun. 
And in effect yet be we never the nere ; ^^ 
But fynally, this is my conclusioun, 620 

That she hir-self shal han the eleccioun 

8 jested, 9 blindeth. i" promptly. n mate. 
12 lone. 13 to be put on record. » haysuck, hedge- 
sparrow. 15 solitary. 16 Because his diet was worms. 
17 It would not matter if there were a dearth of such 
as thou. 18 endure. i* nearer. 



1 68 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Of whom liir list, who-so be wrooth or blythe, 
Him that she cheest,i he shal hir have as 
swythe.2 

For sith hit may not here discussed be 
Who loveth hir best, as seide the tercelet, 
Than wol I doon hir this favour, that she 
Shal have right him on whom hir herte is set, 
And he hir that his herte hath on hir 

knet. 
This juge I, Nature, for I may not lye; 
To noon estat I have nou other ye.^ 630 

But as for counseyl for to chese a make, 
If hit were reson, eertes, than wolde I 
Counseyle vow the royal tercel take, 
As seide the tercelet ful skilfully, 
As for the gentilest and most worthy, 
Which I have wroght so wel to my ples- 

auuce ; 
That to yow oghte been a suffisaunce.' 

Withdredful ^ vois the formel hir answerde, 
' My rightful lady, goddesse of Nature, 
Soth is that I am ever under your yerde,^ 
Lyk as is everiche other creature, 641 

And moot be youres whyl my lyf may dure; 
And therfor graunteth me my firste bone. 
And myn entente I wol yow sey right sone.' 

* I graunte it you,' quod she ; and right 

anoon 
This formel egle spak in this degree, 

* Almighty queue, unto this yeer be doon 
I aske respit for to avysen me. 

And after that to have my choys al free ; 
This al and som ^ that I wolde speke and 
seye ; 650 

Ye gete no more, al-though ye do me deye. 

I wol noght serven Venus ne Cupyde 
For sothe as yet, by no manere wey.' 

* Now sin it may non other wyse betyde,' 
Quod tho Nature, 'here is no more to sey; 
Than wolde I that these foules were a-wey 
Ech with his make, for tarying lenger 

here' — 
And seyde hem thus, as ye shul after here. 

* To you speke I, ye tercelets,' quod Nature, 

* Beth of good herte and serveth, alle 

thi'ee ; 660 

A yeer is not so longe to endure, 

1 chooseth. « forthwith. » eye. * deferential. 
fi rod, governance. ^ This is quite all. 



And ech of yow peyne him, in his degree. 
For to do wel; for, God wot, quit is she 
Fro yow this yeer; what after so befalle, 
This entremes " is dressed for you alle.' 

And whan this werk al broght was to an 

ende. 
To every foule Nature yaf his make 
By even acorde, and on hir wey they wende. 
A ! lord ! the blisse and joye that they 

make ! 669 

For ech of hem gan other in winges take. 
And with hir nekkes ech gan other winde. 
Thanking alwey the noble goddesse of 

kinde. 

But first were chosen foules for to singe, 
As yeer by yere was alwey hir usaimce 
To singe a roundel at hir departinge. 
To do Nature honour and plesaimce. 
The note, I trowe, maked was in Fraunce; 
The wordes were swich as ye may heer 

finde, 
The nexte vers, as I now have in minde. 

Qui Men aime a tard ouhlie.^ 

* Now welcom somer, with thy sonne sof te, 
That hast this wintres weders over- 
shake, 681 
And driven a wey the longe nightes blake ! 

Seynt Yalentyn, that art ful hy onlofte, 
Thus siugen smale foules for thy sake: 
Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe, 
That hast this wintres weders over-shake. 

Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte, 
Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make ; 
Ful blisful may they singen whan they 
wake. 
Now welcom somer , with thy sonne softe, 690 
That hast this wintres iceders over-shake, 
And driven awey the longe nightes blake.* 

And with the showting, whan hir song was 

do. 
That foules maden at her flight a-way, 
I wook, and other bokes took me to 
To rede upon, and yet I rede alway; 
I hope, y-wis, to rede so som day 
That I shal mete som thing for to fare 
The bet; aud thus to rede I nil not spare. 

f intermission; between-course. 
8 Who loves truly forgets late. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



BOOK I 

1. The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, 
That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, 
lu lovinge, how his aventures fellen 

Fro wo to wele, and after out of joye, 
My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. 
Thesiphone, thou help me for t'endyte 
Thise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte! 

2. To thee clepe I, thou goddesse of tor- 

ment, 
Thou cruel Furie, sorwing ever in peyne ; 9 
Help me, that am the sorwful instrument 
That helpeth lovers, as I can, to pleyne! 
For wel sit ^ it, the sothe for to seyne, 
A woful wight to han a drery fere,^ 
And, to a sorwful tale, a sory chere. 

3. For I, that god of Loves servaunts serve, 
Ne dar to Love, for myn unlyklinesse, 
Preyen for speed, al sholde I therfor sterve, 
So fer am I fro his help in derknesse; 
But nathelees, if this may doon gladnesse 
To any lover, and his cause avayle, 20 
Have he my thank, and myn be this tra- 

vay le ! 

4. But ye loveres that bathen in glad- 

nesse. 
If any drope of pitee in yow be, 
Remembreth yow on passed hevinesse 
That ye han felt, and on the adversitee 
Of othere folk, and thenketh how that ye 
Han felt that Love dorste yow displese; 
Or ye han wonne him with to greet an ese. 

5. And preyeth for hem that ben in the 

cas 
Of Troilus, as ye may after here, 30 

That love hem bringe in hevene to solas; 
And eek for me preyeth to God so dere. 
That I have might to shewe, in som man- 

ere, 
Swich peyne and wo as Loves folk endure, 
Li Troilus unsely ^ aventure. 

1 is becoming. < companion. * hapless. 



6. And biddeth eek for hem that been de- 

speyred 
In love, that never nil recovered be. 
And eek for hem that falslybeen apeyred^ 
Thorugh wikked tonges, be it he or she; 
Thus biddeth God, for his benignitee, 40 
To graunte hem sone out of this world to 

pace, 
That been despeyred out of Loves grace. 

7. And biddeth eek for hem that been at 

ese. 
That God hem graunte ay good perseve- 

raunce. 
And sende hem might hir ladies so to plese, 
That it to Love be worship and plesaunce. 
For so hope I my soule best avauuce, 
To preye for hem that Loves servaunts be, 
And wryte hir wo, and live in charitee. 

8. And for to have of hem compassioun 50 
As though I were hir owene brother dere. 
Xow herkeneth with a gode entencioim, 
For now wol I gon streight to my matere, 
In whiche he may the double sorwes here 
Of Troilus, in loving of Criseyde, 

And how that she forsook him er she 
deyde. 

9. It is wel wist, how that the Grekes 

stronge 
In armes with a thousand shippes wente 
To Troye-wardes, and the citee longe 
Assegeden neigh ten veer er they stente, 60 
And, in diverse wyse and oon entente, 
The ravisshing to wreken of Eleyne, 
By Paris doon, they wroughten al hir peyne. 

10. Now fil it so, that in the toun ther 

was 
Dwellinge a lord of greet auctoritee, 
A gret devyn that cleped was Calkas, 
That in science so expert was, that he 
Knew wel that Trove sholde destroyed be, 
By answere of his god, that highte thus, 
Dauu Phebus or Apollo Delphicus. 70 

* disparaged. 



170 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



11. So whan this Calkas knew by calcu- 

linge, 
And eek by answere of this Appollo, 
That Grekes sholden swich a peple bringe 
Thorugh which that Troye moste been for- 
do, 
He caste ^ anoon out of the toun to go; 
For wel wiste he, by sort,'^ that Troye sholde 
Destroyed been, ye, wolde who-so nolde.^ 

12. For which, for to departen softely 
Took purpos ful this forknowinge wyse,^ 
And to the Grekes ost ful prively 80 
He stal^ anoon; and they, in curteys wyse, 
Him deden bothe worship and servyse, 

In trust that he hath conning hem to rede 
In every peril which that is to drede. 

13. The noyse up roos, whan it was first 

aspyed, 
Thorugh al the toun, and generally was 

spoken, 
That Calkas traytor fled was, and allyed 
With hem of Grece; and casten to ben 

wroken ^ 
On him that f alsly hadde his f eith so broken ; 
And seyden, he and al his kin at ones 90 
Ben worthy for to brennen, feV and bones. 

14. Now hadde Calkas left, in this mes- 

chaunce, 
Al unwist ^ of this false and wikked dede, 
His doughter, which that was in gret pen- 

aunce, 
For of hir lyf she was ful sore in drede, 
As she that niste what was best to rede;^ 
For bothe a widowe was she, and allone 
Of any f reend to whom she dorste hir mone. 

15. Criseyde was this lady name a-right; 
As to my dome, in al Troyes citee 100 
Nas noon so fair, for passing every wight 
So aungellyk was hir natyf beautee. 
That lyk a thing immortal semed she, 

As doth an hevenish parfit creature, 

That doun were sent in scorning of nature. 

16 . This lad y , which that al-day herde at ere 
Hir fadres shame, his f alsuesse and tresoun, 
Wel nigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere. 
In widewes habit large of samit broun. 
On knees she fil biforn Ector a-doun; no 

1 planned. 2 divination. 3 In spite of those for or 
against^ « sage. 6 stole. « they planned to be 



avenged. i skin. 



unknowing. 



8 to plan. 



With pitous voys, and tendrely wepinge, 
His mercy bad, hir-selven excusinge. 

17. Now was this Ector pitous of nature, 
And saw that she was sorwfully bigoon,i<^ 
And that she was so fair a creature; 

Of his goodnesse he gladed hir anoon, 
And seyde, ' Lat your fadres treson goon 
Forth with mischaunce, and ye your-self, 

in joye, 
Dwelleth with us, whyl you good list, in 

Troye. 

18. And al th'onour that men may doon 

yow have, 120 

As ferforth as your fader dwelled here, 
Ye shul han, and your body shal men save, 
As fer as I may ought enquere or here.' 
And she him thonked with ful humble 

chere, 
And ofter wolde, and it hadde ben his wille, 
And took hir leve, and hoom, and held hir 

stille. 

19. And in hir hous she abood with swich 

meynee ^^ 
As to hir honour nede was to holde; 
And whyl she was dwellinge in that citee, 
Kepte hir estat, and bothe of yonge and 

olde 130 

Ful wel beloved, and wel men of hir tolde. 
But whether that she children hadde or 

noon, 
I rede it nought; therfore I lete it goon. 

20. The thinges f ellen, as they doon of werre, 
Bitwixen hem of Troye and Grekes ofte ; 
For som day boughten they of Troye it 

derre. 
And eft ^2 the Grekes founden no thing softe 
The folk of Troye ; and thus fortune onlof te. 
And under eft, gan hem to wheelen bothe 
After hir cours, ay whyl they were wrothe. 

21. But how this toun com to destrnc- 

cioun 141 

Ne falleth nought to purpos me to telle; 
For it were here a long digressioun 
Fro my matere, and yow to longe dwelle.^^ 
But the Troyane gestes, as they felle, 
In Omer, or in Dares,^^ or in Dyte,^^ 
Who-so that can, may rede hem as they 

wryte. 

10 in distress. 11 retinue. ^ again. " delay, 
bore, too long. 1* Dares Phrygius. i* Dictys Cretensifl. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



171 



22. But though that Grekes hem of Troye 

shetten,! 
And hir citee bisegede al a-boute, 
Hir olde usage wolde they not letten, 150 
As for to honours hir goddes ful devoute; 
But aldermost in honoure, out of doute, 
They hadde a relik hight Palladion, 
That was hir trist a-boven everichon. 

23. And so bif el, whan comen was the tyme 
Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede 
With newe grene, of lusty Ver ^ the pryme, 
And swote smellen floures whyte and rede, 
In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede. 

The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde, 160 
Palladiones feste for to holde. 

24. And to the temple, in al hir beste wyse. 
In general, ther wente many a wight, 

To herknen of Palladion the servyse; 
And namely, so many a lusty knight, 
So many a lady fresh and mayden bright, 
Ful wel arayed, botlie moste and leste, 
Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste. 

25. Among thise othere folk was Criseyda, 
In widewes habite blak; but nathelees, 170 
Right as our firste lettre is now an A,^ 

In beautee first so stood she, makelees;* 
Hir godly looking gladede al the prees. 
Nas never seyn thing to ben preysed derre, 
Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre 

26. As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everich- 

oon 
That hir bihelden in hir blake wede ; 
And yet she stood ful lowe and stille alloon, 
Bihinden othere folk, in litel brede,^ 
And neigh the dore, ay under shames 

drede, 180 

Simple of atyr, and debonaire of chere, 
With ful assured loking and manere. 

27. This Troilus, as he was wont to gyde 
His yonge knightes, ladde hem up and 

doun 
In thilke large temple on every syde, 
Biholding ay the ladyes of the toun, 
Now here, now there, for no devocioun 
Hadde he to noon, to reven him his reste, 
But gan to preyse and lakken ® whom him 

leste. 

1 shut up, » the spring. 

3 Alluding to Richard II's queen, Anne. 
* peerless. 6 space. « criticize. 



28. And in his walk ful fast he gan to 

wayten ^ 190 

If knight or squyer of his company e 
Gan for to syke ^ or lete his eyen bayten ^ 
On any woman that he coude aspye ; 
He wolde smyle, and holden it folye, 
And seye him thus, ' God wot, she slepeth 

softe 
For love of thee, whan thou tornest ful 

ofte! 

29. 'I have herd told, pardieux, of your 

livinge, 
Ye lovers, and your lewede observaunces. 
And which a labour folk ban in winninge 
Of love, and, in the keping, which dou- 

taunces; 200 

And whan your preye is lost, wo and pen- 

aunces ; 

verrey foles! nyce and blinde be ye; 
Ther nis not oon can war by other be.* 

30. And with that word he gan cast up the 

browe, 
Ascauuces/'^ *Lo! is this nought wysly 

spoken ? ' 
At which the god of love gan loken rowe ^^ 
Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben 

wroken; ^ 
He kidde ^^ anoon his bowe nas not broken; 
For sodeynly he hit him at the fulle; 
And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle.^^ 210 

31. O blinde world! O blinde entencioun! 
How ofte falleth al tli'effect contraire 
Of surquidryei^ and foul presumpcioun; 
For caught is proud, and caught is debo- 
naire. 

This Troilus is elomben on the staire, 
And litel weneth that he moot descenden. 
But al-day fayleth thing that foles weuden. 

32. As proude Bayard ^^ ginneth for to 

skippe 
Out of the wey, so priketh him his com, 
Til he a lash have of the louge whippe, 220 
Than thenketh he, * Though I praunce al 

biforn 
First in the trays, ful fat and newe shorn, 
Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe 

1 moot endure, and with my feres drawe.* 

T take heed. 8 sigh. » feed. 10 As if to say. 
11 cross. 1- determined to wreak vengeance. 

18 showed. " pluck as proud a bird. 

15 over-confidence. !• a bay horee. 



172 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



33. So ferde it by this fers and proude 

knight; 
Though he a worthy kinges sone were, 
And wende no-thing hadde had swiche might 
Ayens his wil that sholde his herte stere/ 
Yet with a look his herte wex a-fere,^ 
That he, that now was most in pryde 

above, 230 

Wex sodeynly most subget un-to love. 

34. For-tliy ensample taketh of this man, 
Ye wyse, proude, and worthy folkes alle. 
To scornen Love, which that so sone can 
The freedom of your hertes to him thralle; 
For ever it was, and ever it shal bifalle, 
That Love is he that alle thing may binde; 
For may no man for-do the la we of kinde. 

35. That this be sooth, hath preved ^ and 

doth yit; 
For this trowe I ye knowen, alle or some, 240 
Men reden not that folk han gretter wit 
Than they that han be most with love 

y-nome ; ^ 
And strengest folk ben therwith overcome. 
The worthiest and grettest of degree ; 
This was, and is, and yet men shal it see. 

36. And trewelich it sit wel to be so; 
For alderwysest han ther-with ben plesed ; 
And they that han ben aldermost in wo, 
With love han been comforted most and esed ; 
And of te it hath the cruel herte apesed, 250 
And worthy folk maad worthier of name. 
And causeth most to dreden vyce and shame. 

37. Now sith it may not goodly be with- 

stonde. 
And is a thing so vertuous in kinde, 
Ref useth not to Love for to be bonde, 
Sin as him-selven list, he may yow binde. 
The yerde is bet that iDowen wole and winde 
Than that that brest;^ and therfor I yow 

rede 
To folwen him that so wel can yow lede. 

38. But for to tellen forth in special 260 
As of this kinges sone of which 1 tolde, 
And leten other thing collateral, 

Of him thenke I my tale for to holde, 
Bothe of his joye, and of his cares colde; 
And al his werk, as touching this matere, 
For I it gan, I wil ther-to refere.^ 

1 stir. 2 afeared. s hath been proved. 
* taken. & breaketh. ^ return. 



39. With-inne the temple he weute him 

forth pleyinge. 
This Troilus, of every wight aboute, 
On this lady and now on that lokiuge, 
Wher-so she were of toune, or of with- 

oute : 270 

And up-on cas bifel, that thorugh a route 
His eye perced, and so depe it wente. 
Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente. 

40. And sodeynly he wex ther-with astoned, 
And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty "^ wyse : 
* O mercy, God! ' though te he, ' wher hastow 

woned,^ 
That art so fair and goodly to devyse ? ' 
Ther-with his herte gan to sprede and ryse, 
And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here, 
And caughte a-yein his firste pleyinge 

chere. 280 

41. She nas not with the leste of hir stature, 
But alle hir limes so wel answeringe 
Weren to womanhode, that creature 

Was never lasse mannish in seminge. 
And eek the pure wyse of here meninge 
Shewede wel,^that men might in hir gesse 
Honour, estat,!*^ and wommanly noblesse. 

42. To Troilus right wonder wel with-alle 
Gan for to lyke hir mening and hir chere. 
Which somdel deynous^i was, for she leet 

falle 290 

Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere, 
Ascaunces,^ * What ! may I not stonden 

here ? ' 
And after that hir loking gan she lighte,!^ 
That never thoughte him seen so good a 

sighte. 

43. And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken 
So greet desir, and swich affeccioun. 
That in his hertes botme gan to stiken 

Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun : 
And though he erst hadde poured up and 
doun, 299 

He was tho glad his homes in to shrinke; 
Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke. 

44. Lo, he that leet^^ him-selven so kon- 

ninge, 
And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen,i® 
Was f ul unwar that love hadde his dwellinge 

7 discreet. « dwelt. 

9 The very nature of her disposition was apparent. 

10 rank. " disdainful. 12 As much as to say, 
13 naake cheerful. i^ considered. ^^ endure. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



^73 



With-inne the subtile stremes of hir yen; 
That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen, 
Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte ; 
Blessed be love, that thus can folk con- 
verte! 

45. She, this in blak, lykinge to Troilns 
Over alle thing, he stood for to biholde; 310 
Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus, 
He neither chore made, ue worde tolde; 
But from a-fer, his maner for to holde, 
On other thing his look som-tyme he caste, 
And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste. 

46. And after this, not fulliche al a- 

whaped,^ 
Out of the temple al esiliche he wente, 
Repentiiige him that he hadde ever y-japed 
Of loves folk, lest fully tlie descente 
Of scorn filie on him-self; but, what he 

mente, 320 

Lest it were wist on any maner syde,^ 
His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde. 

47. Whan he was fro the temple thus de- 

parted. 
He streyght anoon un-to his paleys torneth. 
Right with hir look thurgh-shoten and 

thurgh-darted, 
Al feyneth he in lust that he sojorneth; 
And al his chere and speche also he born- 

eth;3 
And ay, of loves servants every whyle, 
Him-self to wrye,^ at hem he gan to smyle. 

48. And seyde, ' Lord, so ye live al in lest,^ 
Ye loveres! for the conningest of yow, 331 
That serveth most ententiflich and best. 
Him tit 6 as often harm ther-of as prow;^ 
Your hyre is quit ayein, ye, God wot how! 
Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good 

servyse ; 
In feith, your ordre is ruled in good wyse! 

49. In noun-certeyn ^ ben alle your observ- 

aunces, 
But it a sely fewe poyntes be; 338 

Ne no-thing asketh so grete attendaunces 
As doth your lay,^ and that knowe alle ye; 
But that is not the worste, as mote I thee; 
JJut, tolde I yow the worste poynt, I leve, 
Al seyde I sooth, ye wolden at me greve ! 

1 bewildered. 2 anyhow, anywhere. 3 burnishes, 
brightens. 4 conceal. b pleasure. 6 betideth. 
' advantacre. s uncertainty. 9 faith, creed. 



50. But tak this : that ye loveres ofte es- 

chuwe 
Or elles doon of good entencioun, 
Ful ofte thy lady wole it misconstrue, 
And deme it harm in hir opinioun; 
And yet if she, for other euchesoun,!'^ 
Be wrooth, than shalt thou han a groyn ^^ 

anoon: 
Lord ! wel is him that may be of yow 

oon ! ' 350 

51. But for al this, whan that he say ^^ his 

tyme, 
He held his pees, non other bote him 

gayned;!^ 
For love began his fetheres so to lyme,i^ 
That wel unnethe ^^ un-to his folk he f eyned 
That othere besye nedes him destrayned; 
For wo was him, that what to doon he 

niste. 
But bad his folk to goon wher that hem 

liste. 

52. And whan that he in chaumbre was al- 

lone, 
He doun up-on his beddes feet him sette. 
And first he gan to syke, and eft to 

grone, 360 

And thoughte ay on hir so, with-outen 

lette. 
That, as he sat and wook, his spirit mette 
That he hir saw a^^ temple, and al the wyse 
Right of hir loke, and gan it newe avyse. 

53. Thus gan he make a mirour of his 

minde. 
In which he saugh al hooUy hir figure; 
And that he wel conde in his herte finde. 
It was to him a right good aventure 
To love swich oon, and if he dide his cure 
To serven hir, yet mighte he falle in 

grace, 370 

Or elles, for oon of hir servaunts pace: 

54. Imagininge that travaille nor grame ^'^ 
Ne mighte, for so goodly oon, be lorn 

As she; ne him for his desir no shame,^^ 
Al were it wist, but in prys and up-born ^^ 
Of alle lovers wel more than biforn; 
Thus argumented he in his ginninge, 
Ful unavysed of his wo comiuge. 

10 occasion. n rebuff. 12 saw. 

13 no other remedy profited him. i^ As with bird-lime. 

15 with great difficulty. i6 jn the. " pain. 

18 Supply " come upon " (with object him). 

19 Supply " would he be." 



174 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



55. Thus took he purpos loves craft to 

suwe,^ 
And thoughte he wolde werken prively, 380 
First, to hyden his desir in nmwe ^ 
From every wight y-born, al-outrely, 
But he mighte ought recovered be therby; 
Remembring him, that love to wyde y- 

blowe 
Yelt^ bittre fruyt, though swete seed be 



56. And over al this, yet muchel more he 

thoughte 
What for to speke, and what to holden 

inne, 
And what to arten ^ hir to love he soughte, 
And on a song anoon-right to biginne, 389 
And gan loude on his sorwe for to winne; 
For with good hope he gan fully assente 
Criseyde for to love, and nought repente. 

57. And of his song nought only the sen- 

tence, 
As writ myn autour called Lollius,^ 
But pleynly, save our tonges difference, 
I dar wel sayn, in al that Troilus 
Seyde in his song, lo ! every word right 

thus 
As I shal seyn ; and who-so list it here, 
Lo ! next this vers, he may it fiuden here. 

CANTUS TROILI 

58. * If no love is, O God, what fele I so? 400 
And if love is, what thing and whiche is 

he? 
If love be good, from whennes comth my 

wo? 
If it be wnkke, a wonder thinketh me. 
When every torment and adversitee 
That cometh of him, may to me savory 

thinke ; 
For ay thurste I, the more that I it drinke. 

59. And if that at myn owene lust I 

brenne, 
Fro whennes cometh my wailing and my 

pleynte ? 
If harme agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne? 
I noot, ne why unwery that I feynte. 410 
O quike deeth! O swete harm so queynte! 

1 follow. 

2 secret: literally, "hawk's moulting place." 
» Yieldeth. 4 incite. 

5 A puzzling name — here for Petrarch, whose 88th 
sonnet follows ; elsewhere for Boccaccio. See Skeat's 
note. 



How may of thee in me swich quantitee, 
But-if that I consente that it be ? 

60. And if that I consente, I wrongfully 
Compleyne, y-wis ; thus possed** to and 

fro, 
Al sterelees "^ with-inne a boot am I 
A-mid the see, by-twixen windes two, 
That in contrarie stonden ever-mo. 
Alias! what is this wonder malady e ? 
For hete of cold, for cold of hete, I dye.' 420 

61. And to the god of love thus seyde he 
With pitous voys, ' O lord, now youres is 
My spirit, which that oughte youres be. 
Yow thanke I, lord, that han me brought 

to this; 
But whether goddesse or womman, y-wis, 
She be, I noot, which that ye do me serve; 
But as hir man I wole ay live and sterve. 

62. Ye stonden in hire eyen mightily, 
As in a place un-to your vertu digne; 

Wh erf ore, lord, if my servyse or I 430 

May lyke yow, so beth to me benigne; 
For myn estat royal here I resigne 
In-to hir bond, and with f ul humble chere 
Bicome hir man, as to my lady dere.' 

63. In him ne deyned sparen blood royal 
The fyr of love, wher-fro God me blesse, 
Ne him forbar in no degree, for al 

His vertu or his excellent prowesse ; 
But held him as his thral lowe in distresse, 
And brend him so in sondry wyse ay newe, 
That sixty tyme a day he lost his hewe. 441 

64. So muche, day by day, his owene 

thought, 
For lust to hir, gan quiken and encrese, 
That every other charge he sette at nought; 
For-thy ful ofte, his bote fyr to cese, 
To seen hir goodly look he gan to prese; 
For ther-by to ben esed wel he wende, 
And ay the neer^ he was, the more he 

brende. 

65. For ay the neer the fyr, the hotter is, 
This, trowe I, knoweth al this companye. 
But were he fer or neer, I dar seye this, 451 
By night or day, for wysdom or folye, 
His herte, which that is his brestes ye. 
Was ay on hir, that fairer was to sene 
Than ever was Eleyne or Polixene. 

6 pushed, tossed. ^ rudderless. 8 higher. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



175 



66. Eek of the day ther passed nought an 
houre 

That to him-self a thousand tyme he 
! seyde, 

I *Good goodly, to whom serve I and la- 
1 boure, 

j As I best can, now wolde God, Criseyde, 
j Ye wolden on me rewe er that I deyde! 460 
! My dere herte, alias! myn hele ^ and he we 

And lyf is lost, but ye wole on me rewe.' 

67. AUe othere dredes weren from him 

fledde, 
Bothe of th'assege and his savacioun; 
Ne in him desyr noon othere fowoies^ 

bredde 
But arguments to this conclusioun, 
That she on him wolde han compassioun, 
And he to be hir man, whyl he may dure ; 
Lo, here his lyf, and from the deeth his 

cure! 

68. The sharpe shoures felle ^ of armes 

prove, 470 

That Ector or his othere bretheren diden, 
Ne made him only ther-fore ones meve; 
And yet was he, wher-so men wente or 

rid en, 
Founde oon the best, and lengest tyme 

abiden 
Ther peril was, and dide eek such travayle 
In armes, that to thenke it was mervayle. 

69. But for non hate he to the Grekes 

hadde, 
Ne also for the rescous ^ of the toun, 
Ne made him thus in amies for to madde,^ 
But only, lo, for this conclusioun, 480 

To lyken ^ hir the bet for his renoun ; 
Fro day to day in armes so he spedde. 
That alle the Grekes as the deeth him 

dredde. 

70. And fro this forth tho refte him love 

his sleep. 
And made his mete his foo; and eek his 
sorwe 
I Gan multiplye, that, who-so toke keep, 
j It shewed in his he we, bothe eve and 
morwe ; 
Therfor a title he gan him for to borwe 
Of other syknesse, lest of him men wende 
That the bote fyr of love him brende ; 490 

1 health. 2 younglings (lit. fawns). 3 An adjective. 
* rescue. 5 rage. 6 please. 



71. And seyde, he hadde a fever and ferde 

amis; 
But how it was, certayn, can I not seye, 
If that his lady understood not this. 
Or feyned hir she niste, oon of the tweye; 
But wel I rede that, by no maner weye, 
Ne semed it [as] that she of him roughte, 
Nor of his peyne, or what-so-ever he 

thoughte. 

72. But than fel to this Troylus such 

wo 
That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his 

drede 
Was this, that she som wight had loved 

so, 500 

That never of him she wolde have taken 

hede; 
For whiche him thoughte he felte his herte 

blede. 
Ne of his wo ne dorste he not biginne 
To tellen it, for al this world to winne. 

73. But whanne he hadde a space fro his 

care, 
Thus to him-self ful ofte he gan to pleyne; 
He sayde, ' O fool, now art thou in the 

snare. 
That whilonj japedest at loves peyne; 
Now artow bent, now gnaw tbyn owene 

cheyne ; 
Thou were ay wont eche lovere repre- 

hende 510 

Of thing fro which thou canst thee nat 

defende. 

74. What wole now every lover seyn of 

thee. 
If this be wist, but ever in thyn absence 
Laughen in scorn, and seyn, " Lo, ther 

gooth he, 
That is the man of so gret sapience, 
That held us loveres leest in reverence ! 
Now, thonked be God, he may goon in the 

daunce 
Of hem that Love list febly for toavaunce! 

75. But, O thou woful Troilus, God wolde. 
Sin thow most loven thurgh thy destinee, 520 
That thow beset were on swich oon that 

sholde 
Knowe al thy wo, al lakkede hir pitee: 
But al so cold in love, towardes thee, 
Thy lady is, as frost in winter mone. 
And thou fordoon, as snow in fyr is sono." 



176 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



76. God wolde I were aryved in the port 
Of deeth, to which my sorwe wil me lede ! 
A, lord, to me it were a greet comfort; 
Then were I quit of languisshing in drede. 
For by myn hidde sorwe y-blowe on brede ^ 
I shal bi-japed been a thousand tyme 531 
More than that fool of whos folye men ryme. 

77. But now help God, and ye, swete, for 

whom 
I pleyne, y-caught, ye, never wight so f aste ! 
O mercy, dere herte, and help me from 
The deeth, for I, whyl that my lyf may laste. 
More than my-self wol love yow to my 

laste. 
And with som freendly look gladeth me, 

sw^ete. 
Though never more thing ye me bi-hete ! ' ^ 

78. This wordes and ful manye an-other to 
He spak, and called ever in his com- 

pleynte S41 

Hir name, for to tellen hir his wo. 
Til neigh that he in salte teres dreynte.^ 
Al was for nought, she herde nought his 

pleynte; 
And whan that he bithoughte on that folye, 
A thousand fold his wo gan multiplye. 

79. Bi-wayling in his chambre thus allone, 
A freend of his, that called was Pandare, 
Com ones in unwar, and herde him grone, 
And sey his freend in swich distresse and 

care: 550 

* Alias!' quod he, *who causeth al this 

fare ? ^ 
O mercy, God ! what unhap may this mene ? 
Han now thus sone Grekes maad yow lene ? 

80. Or hastow som remors of conscience, 
And art now falle in som devocioun. 

And waviest for thy sinne and thyn offence. 
And hast for f erde caught attricioun ? ^ 
God save hem that bi-seged han our toun. 
And so can leye our jolytee on presse,^ 
And bring our lusty folk to holinesse ! ' 560 

81. These wordes seyde he for the nones 

alle,7 
That with swich thing lie mighte him 

angry maken. 
And with an angre don his sorwe falle, 
1 abroad. 2 promise. ^ drowned. * ado. 
6 horror of sin through fear of punishment. 
6 make us put it away — as in a clothes-press. 
T merely for the nonce. 



As for the tyme, and his corage awaken ; 
But wel he wiste, as fer as tongas spaken, 
Ttier nas a man of gretter hardinesse 
Than he, ne more desired worthinesse. 

82. 'What cas,' quod Troilus, 'or what 

aventure 
Hath gyded thee to see my languisshinge, 
That am refus of every creature ? 570 

But for the love of God, at my preyinge, 
Go henne ^ a-way, for certes, my deyinge 
Wol thee disese,^ and I mot nedes deye; 
Ther-for go wey, ther is no more to seye. 

83. But if thou wene I be thus syk for 

drede, 
It is not so, and ther-for scome nought; 
Ther is a-nother thing I take of hede 
Wel more than ought the Grekes han y- 

wrought. 
Which cause is of my deeth, for sorwe and 

thought. 
But though that I now telle thee it ne 

leste,io 580 

Be thou nought wrooth, I hyde it for the 

beste.' 

84. This Pandare, that neigh malt^^ for wo 

and routhe, 
Ful often seyde, ' Alias! what may this be? 
Now freend,' quod he, 'if ever love or 

trouthe 
Hath been, or is, bi-twixen thee and me, 
Ne do thou never swiche a crueltee 
To hyde fro thy freend so greet a care; 
Wostow nought wel that it am I, Pandare ? 

85. I wole parten ^^ with thee al thy peyne, 
If it be so I do thee no comfort, 590 
As it is freendes right, sooth for to seyne. 
To entreparten ^^ wo, as glad desport. 

I have, and shal, for ^^ trewe or fals report, 
In wrong and right y-loved thee al my lyve; 
Hyd not thy wo from me, but telle it blyve.' 1* 

86. Then gan this sorwful Troilus to syke. 
And seyde him thus, ' God leve ^^ it be my 

beste 
To telle it thee; for, sith it may thee lyke. 
Yet wole I telle it, though myn herte 

breste; 599 

And wel wot I thou mayst do me no reste. 

8 hence. 9 make uncomfortable. i" do not care 
totellitthee. n melted. "share. " in spite 
of. 1* quickly. is grant. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



177 



But lest thow deme I truste not to thee, 
Now herktie, freend, for thus it stant with 
me. 

87. Love, a-yeins the which who-so de- 

fendeth 
Him-selven most, him alder-lest ^ avayleth, 
With desespeir so sorwfully me offendeth. 
That streyght un-to the deeth myn herte 

sayleth. 
Ther-to desyr so brenningly me assaylleth, 
That to ben slayn it were a gretter joye 
To me than king of Grece been and Troye ! 



this, 



my 



fulle 



freend Pan- 
610 
seyd, for now wostow my 



88. Suffiseth 
dare. 

That I liave 

wo; 
And for the love of God, my colde care 
So hyd it wel, I telle it never to mo; 
For harmes mighte folwen, mo than two, 
If it were wist; but be thou in gladnesse, 
And lat me sterve, unknowe of my dis- 

tresse.' ^ 

89. ' How hastow thus unkindely and longe 
Hid this fro me, thou fool ? ' quod Pan- 
da rus; 

'Paraunter thou might after swich oon 

longe. 
That myn avys anoon may helpen us.' 620 
'This were a wonder thing,' quod Troilus, 
'Thou coudest never in love thy-selven 

wisse ; ^ 
How devel maystow bringen me to blisse ? ' 

90. * Ye, Troilus, now herke,' quod Pan- 

dare, 
' Though I be nyce; ^ it happeth ofte so, 
That oon that exces doth ful yvele fare ^ 
By good counseyl can kepe his freend ther- 

fro. 
I have my-self eek seyn a blind man go 
Ther-as he fel that coude loke wyde; 
A fool may eek a wys man ofte gyde. 630 

91. A whetston is no kerving instrument. 
And yet it maketh sharpe kerving-tolis. 
And ther thow woost that I have ought 

miswent, 
Eschewe thou that, for swich thing to thee 

scole is; 
Thus ofte wyse men ben war by folis. 

1 least of all. 2 my distress being unknown. 

' guide. * foolish, b that passion causes to fare ill. 



If thou do so, thy wit is wel biwared ; ^ 
By his contrarie is every thing declared. 

92. For how might ever sweetnesse have 

be knowe 
To him that never tasted bitternesse ? 
Ne no man may be inly glad, I trowe, 640 
That never was in sorwe or som distresse; 
Eek whyt by blak, by shame eek worthi- 

nesse, 
Ech set by other, more for other semeth; 
As men may see; and so the wyse it demeth. 

93. Sith thus of two contraries is a lore,"^ 
I, that have in love so ofte assayed 
Grevaunces, oughte conne,^ and wel the 

more 
Counsayllen thee of that thou art amayed.^ 
Eek thee ne oughte nat ben yvel apayed,i*^ 
Though I desyre with thee for to here 650 
Thyn hevy charge; ^^ it shal the lasse dere.^ 

94. I woot wel that it fareth thus by me 
As to thy brother Parys an herdesse, 
Which that y-cleped was Oenone, 
Wroot in a compleynt of hir hevinesse: 

Ye sey the lettre ^'^ that she wroot, y gesse ? ' 
' Nay, never yet, y-wis,' quod Troilus. 
' Now,' quod Pandare, ' herkneth ; it was 
thus. — 

95. " Phebus, that first fond art of medi- 

cyne," 
Quod she, " and coude in every wightes 

care 660 

Remede and reed,^^ by herbes he knew 

fyne,!^ 
Yet to hini-self his conninge was ful bare; 
For love hadde him so bounden in a snare, 
Al for the doughter of the kinge Admete, 
That al his craft ne coude his sorwe bete." ^^ 

96. Right so fare I, unhappily for me; 

I love oon best, and that me smerteth sore; 
And yet, paraimter, can I rede thee. 
And not my-self; repreve me no more. 
I have no cause, I woot wel, for to sore 670 
As doth an hauk that listeth for to pleye, 
But to thyn help yet somwhat can I seye. 

97. And of o thing right siker maystow be. 
That certayn, for to deyen in the peyne,^' 

6 spent. 7 one lesson. 8 to know. s dismayed. 

10 pleased. n load. 12 hurt. " See Ovid, 

Heroides, v. i* remedy and counsel, is An adjective. 

16 amend. i^ though I had to die by torture. 



178 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



That I shal never-mo discoveren^ thee; 
Ne, by my trouthe, I kepe nat ^ restreyne 
Thee fro thy love, thogh that it were 

Eleyne, 
That is thy brotheres wyf , if ich it wiste ; 
Be what she be, and love hir as thee liste. 

98. Therfore, as freend fullich in me as- 

sure,3 680 

And tel me plat^ what is thyn enehesoun,^ 
And final cause of wo that ye endure; 
For douteth no-thing, myn entencioun 
Nis nought to yow of reprehencioun, 
To speke as now, for no wight may bireve 
A man to love, til that him list to leve. 

99. And witeth wel, that bothe two ben 

vyces, — 
Mistrusten alle, or elles alle leve;^ 
But wel I woot, the mene of it no vyce is, 
For for to trusten sum wight is a preve 690 
Of trouthe, and for-thy wolde I fayu remeve 
Thy wrong conceyte, and do thee som wight 

triste,''' 
Thy wo to telle ; and tel me, if thee liste. 

100. The wyse seyth, "Wo him that is 

allone, 
For, and he falle, he hath noon help to 

ryse;" 
And sith thou hast a f elawe, tel thy mone ; 
For this nis not, eerteyn, the nexte wyse 
To winnen love, as techen us the wyse, 
To walwe and wepe as Niobe the queue, 
Whos teres yet in marbel been y-sene. -joo 

101. Lat be thy weping and thy drerinesse. 
And lat us lissen ^ wo with other speche; 
So may thy woful tyme seme lesse. 
Delyte not in wo thy wo to seche, 

As doon thise f oles that hir sorwes eche ® 
With sorwe, whan they han misaventure. 
And listen 1*^ nought to seche hem other 
cur© 

102. Men seyn, *' To wrecche is consolacioun 
To have an-other f elawe in his peyne ; " 
That oughte wel ben our opinioua, 710 
For, bothe thou and I, of love we pleyne; 
So ful of sorwe am I, soth for to seyne. 
That certeynly no more harde grace 

May sitte on me, for- why ther is no space! 

1 disclose. 2 care not to. ^ trust. * downright. 

5 occasion. s to believe. ^ cause thee to trust 
some one. 8 alleviate. » augment, eke out. 

10 desire. 



103. If God wole thou art not agast of me. 
Lest I wolde of thy lady thee bigyle, 
Thow wost thy-self whom that I love, 

pardee. 
As I best can, gon sithen longe whyle.^^ 
And sith thou wost I do it for no wyle. 
And sith I am he that thou tristest 

most, 720 

Tel me sumwhat, sin al my wo thou wost.' 

104. Yet Troilus, for al this, no word seyde. 
But longe he lay as stille as he ded were; 
And after this with sykinge he abreyde,^ 
And to Pandarus voys he lent his ere. 
And up his eyen caste he, that in fere 
Was Pandarus, lest that in frenesye 

He sholde falle, or elles sone deye : 

105. And cryde ' A-wake ! ' ful wonderly and 

sharpe ; 
'What? slombrestow as in a lytargye? 730 
Or artow lyk an asse to the harpe, 
That hereth soun, whan men the strenges 

But in his minde of that no melodye 
May sinken, him to glade, for that he 
So dul is of his bestialitee ? ' 

106. And with that Pandare of his wordes 

stente; ^^ 
But Troilus yet him no word answerde, 
For-why to telle nas not his entente 
To never no man, for whom that he so 

ferde. 739 

For it is seyd, * Man maketh ofte a yerde ^^ 
With which the maker is him-self y-beten 
In sondry maner,' as thise wyse treten, 

107. And namely, in his counseyl tellings 
That toucheth love that oughte be secree; 
For of him-self it wolde y-nough out- 
springe, 

But-if that it the bet governed be. 
Eek som-tyme it is craft to seme flee 
Fro thing which in effect men hunte faste; 
Al this gan Troilus in his herte caste. 

108. But nathelees, whan he had herd him 

crye 7S0 

* Awake ! ' he gan to syke wonder sore, 
And seyde, ' Freend, though that I stille 

lye, 

I am not deef ; now pees, and cry no more; 

For I have herd thy wordes and thy lore; 

11 since long ago. 12 started. i3 ceased. ^* rod. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



179 



But suffre me my mischef to biwayle, 
For thy proverbes may me nought avayle. 

109. Nor other cure canstow noon for me. 
Eek I nil not be cured, I wol deye ; 
What knowe I of the quene Niobe ? 

Lat be thyne olde ensaumples, I thee 
preye.' 760 

* No,' quod tho Paudarus, ' therfore I seye, 
Swich is delyt of foles to biwepe 

Hir wo, but seken bote they ne kepe. 

110. Now knowe I that ther reson in thee 

fayleth. 
But tel me, if I wiste what she were 
For whom that thee al this misaunter^ 

ayleth, 
Dorstestow ^ that I tolde hir in hir ere 
Thy wo, sith thou darst not tby-self for 

fere, 
And hir bisoughte on thee to han som 

routhe ? ' 

* Why, nay,' quod he, * by God and by my 

trouthe ! ' 770 

111. * What? not as bisily,' quod Pandarus, 
*As though myn owene lyf lay on this 

nede ? ' 
' No, certes, brother,' quod this Troilus. 
*And why?' — « For that thou sholdest 

never spede.' 
' Wostow that wel ? ' — ' Ye, that is out of 

drede,' 
Quod Troilus, * for al that ever ye conne, 
She nil to noon swich wrecche as I be 

wonne.' 

112. Quod Pandarus, * Alias ! what may 

this be, 
That thou despeyred art thus causelees? 
What ? liveth not thy lady ? henedicite ! 780 
How wostow so that thou art gracelees ? 
Swich yvel is not alwey botelees.^ 
Why, put not impossible thus thy cure, 
Sin thing to come is ofte in aveuture. 

113. I graunte wel that thou endurest wo 
As sharp as doth he, Ticius,* in helle, 
Whos stomak foules tyren ever-mo 
That highte volturis, as bokes telle. 

But I may not endure that thou dwelle 
In so unskilful an opinioun 790 

That of thy wo is no curacioun. 



1 misadventure. 
* without remedy. 



2 Wouldst thou dare. 
« Tityus. 



114. But ones niltow, for thy coward 

herte. 
And for thyn ire and folish wilfulnesse. 
For wantrust,^ tellen of thy sorwes smerte, 
Ne to thyn owene help do bisinesse 
As muche as speke a resoun more or lesse, 
But lyest as he that list of no-thing 

recche. 
What womman coude love swich a 

wrecche ? 

115. What may she demen other of thy 

deeth. 
If thou thus deye, and she not why it is, 800 
But that for fere is yolden up thy breeth. 
For Grekes ban biseged us, y-wis ? 
Lord, which a thank than shaltow han of 

this! 
Thus wol she seyn, and al the toun at 

ones, 
" The wrecche is deed, the devel have his 

bones ! " 

116. Thou mayst allone here wepe and crye 

and knele; 
But, love a woman that she woot it 

nought, 
And she wol quyte thatthoji shalt not fele; 
Unknowe, unkist, and lost that is im- 

sought. 
What! many a man hath love ful dere 

y-bought 810 

Twenty winter that his lady wiste. 
That never yet his lady mouth he kista 

117. What? shulde he therfor fallen in 

despayr, 
Or be recreaunt for his owene tene,^ 
Or sleen him-self, al be his lady fayr ? 
Nay, nay, but ever in oon " be fresh and 

grene 
To serve and love his dere hertes quene, 
And thenke it is a guerdoun hir to serve 
A thousand-fold more than he can deserve.' 

118. And of that word took hede Troilus, 
And thoughte anoon what folye he was 

inne, 821 

And how that sooth him seyde Pandarus, 
That for to sleen him-self mighte he not 

winne, 
But bothe doon unmanhod and a sinne, 
And of his deeth his lady nought to wyte;^ 
For of his wo, God woot, she knew ful lyte. 
5 distrust, e Taxation. 1 continuously, s blame. 



i8o 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



119. And with that thought he gan ful 

sore syke, 
And seyde, ' Alias! what is me best to do? ' 
To whom Pandare answerde, * If thee lyke, 
The best is that thou telle me thy wo; 830 
And have my trouthe, but thou it finde so, 
I be thy bote^ or that it be ful longe, 
To peces do me drawe, and sithen honge! ' 

120. * Ye, so thou seyst,' quod Troilus tho, 

'alias! 
But, God wot, it is not the rather so; 
Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas, 
For wel finde I that Fortune is my fo, 
Ne alle the men that ryden conne or go 
May of hir cruel wheel the harm withstonde ; 
For, as hir list, she pleyeth with free and 

bonde.' 840 

121. Quod Pandarus, * Than blamestow 

Fortune 
For thou art wrooth, ye, now at erst ^ I see ; 
Wostow nat wel that Fortune is commune 
To every maner wight in som degree ? 
And yet thou hast this comfort, lo, pardee ! 
That, as hir joyes moten over-goon. 
So mote hir sorwes passen everichoon. 

122. For if hir wheel stinte any-thing to 

torne, 
Than cessed she Fortune anoon to be: 
Now, sith hir wheel by no wey may so- 

jorue, 850 

What wostow if hir mutabilitee 
Right as thy-selven list, wol doon by thee, 
Or that she be not fer fro thyn helpinge ? 
Paraunter, thou hast cause for to singe I 

123. And therfor wostow what I thee 

beseche ? 
Lat be thy wo and turning to the grounde; 
For who-so list have helping of his leche, 
To him bihoveth first unwrye ^ his wounde. 
To Cerberus in helle ay be I bounde. 
Were it for my suster, al thy sorwe, 860 
By my wil, she sholde al be thyn to-morwe. 

124. Loke up, I seye, and tel me what she is 
Anoon, that I may goon aboute thy nede; 
Knowe ieh hir ought ? For my love, tel me 

this; 
Than wolde I hopen rather ^ for to spede.* 
Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede, 



1 That I am your remedy. 
8 uncover. 



2 for the first time. 
« sooner. 



For he was hit, and wex al reed for shame ; 
* A ha ! ' quod Pandare, ' here biginneth 
game ! ' 

125. And with that word he gan him for to 

shake. 
And seyde, * Theef, thou shalt hir name 

telle.' 870 

But tho gan sely ^ Troilus for to quake 
As though men sholde han lad him in-to helle. 
And seyde, ' Alias ! of al my wo the welle, 
Than is my swete fo called Criseyde ! ' 
And wel nigh with the word for fere he 

deyde. 

126. And whan that Pandare herde hir 

name nevene,^ 
Lord , he was glad, and seyde, 'Freend so dere, 
Now fare a-right, for Joves name in hevene, 
Love hath biset "^ thee wel, be of good chere; 
For of good name and wysdom and 

manere 880 

She hath y-nough, and eek of gentilesse. 
If she be fayr, thow wost thy-self, I gesse. 

127. Ne I never saw a more bountevous 
Of hir estat, ne a gladder, ne of speche 
A freendlier, ne a more gracious 

For to do wel, ne lasse hadde nede to seche 
What for to doon; and al this bet to eche,^ 
In honour, to as fer as she may strecche,^ 
A kinges herte semeth by hires a wrecche. 

128. And for-thyi*^ loke of good comfort 

thou be; 890 

For certeinly, the firste poynt is this 
Of noble corage and wel ordeyn^,ii 
A man to have pees with him-self, y-wis; 
So oughtest thou, for nought but good it is 
To loven wel, and in a worthy place; 
Thee oughte not to clepe it hap, but grace. 

129. And also thenk, and ther-with glade 

thee, 
That sith thy lady vertuous is al, 
So folweth it that ther is som pitee 
Amonges alle thise othere in general; 900 
And for-thy see that thou, in special, 
Requere nought that is ayein hir name; 
For vertue streccheth not him-self to 

shame.^ 

5 poor. 6 named. ^ bestowed. 

8 the more to enhance. ^ within her proper sphere. 
10 therefore. i^ regulated. 

12 Virtue goes not to the extent of shaming virtue ; 
or, virtue does nothing shameful. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



i«i 



130. But wel is me that ever I was born, 
That thou biset art in so good a place; 
For by my trouthe, in love I dorste have 

sworn, 
Thee sholde never han tid thus fayr a 

grace ; 
And wostow why ? For thou were wont to 

chace 
At love in scorn, and for despyt him calle 
" Seynt Idiot, lord of thise foles alle." 910 

131. How often hastow maad thy nyce 

japes,! 
And seyd, that loves servants everichone 
Of nycetee ben verray Goddes apes; 
And some wolde monche ^ hir mete alone, 
Liggiug a-bedde, and make hem for to 

grone ; 
And som, thou seydest, hadde a blaunche 

fevere,^ 
And preydest God he sholde never kevere! ^ 

132. And some of hem toke on hem, for 

the colde. 
More than y-nough/ so seydestow f ul ofte ; 
And some han feyned ofte tyme, and tolde 
How that they wake, whan they slepen 

softe; 921 

And thus they wolde han brought hemself 

a-lofte,^ 
And nathelees were under at the laste; 
Thus seydestow, and japedest f ul faste. 

133. Yet seydestow, that, for the more 

part. 
These loveres wolden speke in general,"^ 
And thoughten that it was a siker art. 
For fayling,^ for to assayen over-al.^ 
Now may I jape of thee, if that I shal ! 
But natheless, though that I sholde deye, 930 
That thou art noon of tho, that dorste I 

seye. 

134. Now beet thy brest, and sey to god of 

love, 
" Thy grace, lord ! for now I me repente 
If I mis-spak, for now my-self I love:" 
Thus sey with al thyn herte in good en- 
tente.' 
Quod Troilus, 'A ! lord ! I me consente, 

1 foolish jests. 2 munch. 
3 Jocose — a white fever. * recover. 
6 Made over-much pretense of being afflicted by the 
lady's coldness. 

6 advanced themselves. ' in generalities. 

8 A sure method to prevent failure. ' everjrwhere. 



And pray to thee my japes thou foryive, 
And I shal never-more whyl I live.' 

135. ' Thow seyst wel,' quod Pandare, * and 

now I hope 
That thou the goddes wraththe hast al 

apesed ; 940 

And sithenthou hast wepen many a drope. 
And seyd swich thing wher-with thy god is 

plesed. 
Now wolde never God but thou were esed ; 
And think wel, she of whomrist ^^ al thy wo 
Here-after may thy comfort been al-so. 

136. For thilke ground, that bereth the 

wedes wikke, 
Bereth eek thise holsom herbes, as ful ofte 
Next the foule netle, rough and thikke. 
The rose w^axeth swote and smothe and 

softe ; 
And next the valey is the hill a-lofte; 950 
And next thederke night the glade morwe; 
And also joye is next the fyn 11 of sorwe. 

137. Now loke that atempre be thy brydel,!^ 
And, for the beste, ay suifre to the tyde,i^ 
Or elles al our labour is on ydel; 

He hasteth w^el that vvysly can abyde; 
Be diligent, and trewe, and ay w^el hyde. 
Be lusty, free, persevere in thy servyse. 
And al is wel, if thou werke in this wyse. 

138. But he that parted is in every place 960 
Is no-wher hool, as writen clerkes wj'se; 
What wonder is, though swich oon have no 

grace ? 
Eek wostow how it fareth of som servyse ? 
As plaunte a tre or herbe, in sondry wyse, 
And on the morwe pulle it up as blyve, 
No wonder is though it may never thryve. 

139. And sith that god of love hath thee 

bistowed 
In place digne un-to thy worthinesse, 
Stond faste, for to good port hastow rowed ; 
And of thy-self, for any hevinesse, 970 

Hope alwey wel; for, but-if drerinesse 
Or over-haste our botlie labour shende, 
I hope of this to maken a good ende. 

140. And wostow why I am the lasse a- 

fered 
Of this matere with my nece trete ? ^^ 

10 rises. n end. 12 temperate be thy bridle. 

13 accommodate thyself to the occasion, i* to treat. 



l82 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



For this have I herd seyd of wyse y-lered,i 
" Was never man ne woman yet bigete 
That was unapt to suffren loves hete 
Celestial, or elles love of kinde;" 
For-thy som grace I hope in hir to finde. 980 

141. And for to speke of hir in special, 
Hir beautee to bithinken and hir youthe, 
It sit ^ hir nought to be celestial 

As yet, though that hir liste bothe and 

couthe ; 
But trewely, it sete ^ hire wel right nouthe ^ 
A worthy knight to loven and cheryce, 
And but she do, I holde it for a vyce. 

142. Wherfore I am, and wol be, ay redy 
To peyne me to do yow this servyse ; 

For bothe yow to plese thus hope I 990 

Her-af terward ; for ye beth bothe wyse, 
And conne it counseyl kepe in swich a 

wyse. 
That no man shal the wyser of it be; 
And so we may be gladed alle three. 

143. And, by my trouthe, I have right now 

of thee 
A good conceyt in my wit, as I gesse, 
And what it is, I wol now that thou see. 
I thenke, sith that love, of his goodnesse, 
Hath the converted out of wikkednesse, 999 
That thou shalt be the beste post,^ I leve, 
Of al his lay,^ and most his foos to-greve.'^ 

144. Ensample why, see now these wyse 

clerkes. 
That erren aldermost a-yein a lawe. 
And ben converted from hir wikked werkes 
Thorugh grace of God, that list hem to him 

drawe, 
Than arn they folk that han most God in 

awe. 
And strengest-f eythed been, I understonde, 
And conne an errour alder-best withstonde.' 

145. Whan Troilus had herd Pandare as- 

sented 
To been his help in loving of Criseyde, loio 
Wex of his wo, as who seyth,^ untormented; 
But hotter wex his love, and thus he seyde. 
With sobre chere, al-though his hertepleyde 
' Now blisf ul Venus helpe, er that I sterve, 
Of thee, Pandare, I may som thank deserve. 

1 learned ones. 2 becometh. 8 would become. 
* now. 5 pillar, 6 religion. 

' grieve excessively. 8 as it were. 



146. But, dere frend, how shal myn wo 

ben lesse 
Til this be doon ? And goode, eek tel me 

this. 
How wiltow seyn of me and my destresse? 
Lest she be wrooth, this drede I most, y-wis. 
Or nil not here or trowen how it is. i^^*^ 
Al this drede I, and eek for the manere 
Of thee, hir eem,^ she nil no swich thing 

here.' 

147. Quod Pandarus, * Thou hast a ful gret 

care 
Lest that the cherl may falle out of the 

mone ! 
Why, lord ! I hate of thee thy nyce fare!^"^ 
Why, entremete of that thou hast to done ! ^^ 
For Goddes love, I bidde thee a bone,^ 
So lat me alone, and it shal be thy beste.' — 
' Why, freend,' quod he, ' now do right as 

thee leste. 

148. But herke, Pandare, o word, for I 

nolde 1030 

That thou in me wendest so greet folye, 
That to my lady I desiren sholde 
That toucheth harm or any vilenye; 
For dredelees, me were lever dye 
Than she of me ought elles understode 
But that that mighte sounen ^^ in-to gode.' 

149. Tho lough 1^ this Pandare, and anoon 

answerde, 
* And I thy borw ? ^^ Fy ! no wight dooth 

but so; 
I roughte ^^ nought though that she stode 

and herde 1039 

How that thou seyst; but fare-wel, I wol go. 
A-dieu ! be glad ! God spede us bothe two I 
Yif me this labour and this besinesse, 
And of my speed be thyn al that swetnesse.' 

150. Tho Troilus gan doun on knees to 

falle, 
And Pandare in his armes hente faste, 
And seyde, ' Now, fy on the Grekes alle ! 
Yet pardee, God shal helpe us at the laste ; 
And dredelees, if that my lyf may laste. 
And God to-forn,!'^ lo, som of hem shal 

smerte ; 
And yet me athinketh that this avaunt me 

asterte ! ^^ 1050 

9 uncle; cf. Ger. Oheim. 10 foolish fuss. " mind 

your own business. 12 ask a favor of you. i3 tend. 

14 laughed. is backer, security. 16 should reck. 

17 before God. 18 I repent that this boast escaped me. 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



183 



151. Now, Pandare, I can no more seye, 
But thou wys, thou wost, thou mayst, thou 

art al ! 
My lyf, my deeth, hool in thyn honde I 

leye; 
Help now,' quod he. * Yis, by my trouthe, 

I shal.' 
*Godyelde ^thee, freend, and this in special,' 
Quod Troilus, ' that thou me recomauude 
To hir that to the deeth me may com- 

aunde.' 

152. This Pandarus tho, desirous to serve 
His fulle freend, than seyde in this manere, 
* Far-wel, and thenk I wol thy thank de- 
serve; 1060 

Have here my trouthe, and that thou shalt 

wel here.' — 
And wente his wey, thenking on this matere. 
And how he best mighte hir beseche of 

grace, 
And finde a tyme ther-to, and a place. 

153. For every wight that hath an hous to 

founde 
Ne renneth nought the werk for to biginne 
With rakel^ hond, but he wol byde a 

stounde,^ 
And sende his hertes lyne out fro with-inne 
Alderfirst his purpos for to winne. 

I reward. 2 rash. 3 time. 



Al this Pandare in his herte thoughte, 1070 
ful wysly, or^ he 



And 



caste'* his werk 
wrouofhte. 



154. But Troilus lay tho no lenger doun, 
But up anoon up-on his stede bay, 

And in the feld he pleyde tho leouu; 

Wo was that Greek that with him mette 

that day. 
And in the toun his maner tho forth ay 
So goodly was, and gat him so in grace, 
That ech him lovede that loked on his face. 

155. For he bicom the frendlyeste wight. 
The gentileste, and eek the moste free, 1080 
The thrif tieste ® and oon the beste knight, 
That in his tyme was, or mighte be. 
Dede were his japes and his crueltee, 

His heighe port and his manere estraunge, 
And ech of tho gan for a vertu chaunge. 

156. Now lat lis stinte of Troilus a stounde, 
That fareth lyk a man that hurt is sore, 
And is somdel of akinge of his wounde 
Y-lissed" wel, but heled no del more: 
And, as an esy pacient, the lore 1090 
Abit ^ of him that gooth aboute his cure; 
And thus he dryveth forth his aventure. 

Explicit Liber Primus. 



« planned. ^ 
7 Relieved. 



before. 



• most successful. 
8 Abideth. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



PROLOGUE A 

The prologe of Ax. goode Wimmen, 

A THOUSAND sythes^ have I herd men 

telle, 
That ther is joye in heven, and peyne in 

helle ; 
And I acorde wel that hit be so; 
But natheles, this wot I wel also, 
That ther nis noon that dwelleth in this 

contree. 
That either hath in helle or heven y-be, 
Ne may of hit uon other weyes witen,^ 
But as he hath herd seyd, or founde hit 

writen; 
For by assay ther may no man hit preve. 
ButGoddes forbode,^butmenshulde leve^ lo 
Wel more thing then men han seen with ye ! ^ 
Men shal nat wenen every-thing a lye 
For that he seigh it nat of yore ago. 
God wot, a thing is never the lesse so 
Thogh every wight he may hit nat y-see. 
Bernard the monk^ ne saugh nat al, parde! 

Than mote we to bokes that we finde, 
Through which that olde thinges been in 

miude. 
And to the doctrine of these olde wyse, 
Yeven credence, in every skilful ^ wyse, 20 
And trowen on these olde aproved stories 
Of holinesse, of regnes,^ of victories. 
Of love, of hate, of other sundry thinges, 
Of whiche I may not maken rehersinges. 
And if that olde bokes were a-weye, 
Y-Ioren were of remembraunce the keye. 
Wel oghte us than on olde bokes leve, 
Ther-as ther is non other assay by preve.® 
And, as for me, though that my wit be 

lyte. 

On bokes for to rede I me delyte, 30 

And in myn herte have hem in reverence; 
And to hem yeve swich lust and swich cre- 
dence, 
That ther is wel unethe game noon '^^ 
That from my bokes make me to goon, 

1 times. 2 know. 3 God's prohibition — i.e. God 
forbid ! * believe. ^ eye. 6 Bernard of Clairvaux. 

7 reasonable, s empires. ' testing by experiment. 

10 scarcely any game. 



But hit be other up-on the haly-day, 
Or elles in the joly tyme of May; 
Whan that I here the smale foules singe, 
And that the floures ginne for to springe, 
Farwel my studie, as lasting that sesoun! 

Now have I therto this condicioun^^ 40 
That, of alle the floures in the mede. 
Than love I most these floures whyte and 

rede, 
Swiche as men callen daysies in our toun. 
To hem have I so greet affeccioun, 
As I seyde erst, whan comen is the May, 
That in my bed ther daweth ^-^ me no day 
That I nam up, and walking in the mede 
To seen these floures agein the sonne sprede. 
Whan it up-riseth by the morwe shene, 49 
The longe day, thus walking in the grene. 
And whan the sonne ginneth for to weste. 
Than closeth hit, and draweth hit to reste, 
So sore hit is afered of the night. 
Til on the morwe, that hit is dayes light. 
This dayesye, of alle floures flour, 
Fulfild of vertu and of alle honour. 
And ever y-lyke fair and fresh of hewe, 
As wel in winter as in somer newe. 
Fain wolde I preisen, if I coude aright; 
But wo is me, hit lyth nat in my might! 60 
For wel I wot, that folk han her-beforn 
Of making ropen,^^ and lad a-wey the corn; 
And I come after, glening here and there, 
And am ful glad if I may finde an ere 
Of any goodly word that they han left. 
And, if hit happe me rehersen eft 
That they han in her fresshe songes sayd, 
I hope that they wil nat ben evel apayd,i^ 
Sith hit is seid in forthering and honour 
Of hem that either serven leef or flour.^^ 70 
For trnsteth wel, I ne have nat undertake 
As of the leef, ageyn the flour, to make; ^^ 
Ne of the flour to make, ageyn the leef. 
No more than of the corn ageyn the sheef. 
For, as to me, is leefer noon ne lother; 
I am with-holde i" yit with never nother. 

11 peculiarity. 12 dawns. 

13 Reaped the poetic field ; an allusion to the French 
"Marguerite " poets. i^ pleased. 

15 Apparently poets sided in playful allegory with 
one or the other. " compose poetry. "retained. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



i8s 



I not who serveth leef, ne who the flour; 
That nis nothing the entent of my labour. 
For this werk is al of another tunne,^ 
Of olde story, er swich stryf was begunne. 80 
But wherfor that I spak, to yeve cre- 
dence 
To bokes olde and doon hem reverence, 
Is for men shulde antoritees beleve, 
Ther as ther lyth non other assay by preve. 
For myu entent is, or I fro yow fare, 
The naked text in English to declare 
Of many a story, or elles of many a gest. 
As autours seyn; leveth hem if yow leste! 
Whan passed was almost the month of 

May, 
And I had romed, al the someres day, 90 
The grene medew, of which that 1 yow 

tolde. 
Upon the fresshe daysy to beholde. 
And that the sonne out of the south gan 

waste, 
And closed was the flour and goon to reste 
For derknesse of the night, of which she 

dredde, 
Hoora to myn hons f ul swiftly I me spedde ; 
And, in a litel erber ^ that I have, 
Y-benched ^ newe with turves fresshe y- 

grave, 
I bad men shulde me my couche make; 
For deyntee of the newe someres sake, 100 
I bad hem strowe floures on my bed. 
Whan I was layd, and had myn even hed, 
I fel a-slepe with-in an houre or two. 
Me mette how I was in the medew tho, 
And that I romed in that same gyse. 
To seen that flour, as ye ban herd devyse. 
Fair was this medew, as thoughte me 

overal; 
With floures swote embrowded was it al; 
As for to speke of gomme, or erbe, or tree, 
Comparisoun may noon y-inaked be. no 
For hit surmounted pleynly alle odoures, 
And eek of riche beaute alle floures. 
Forgeten had the erthe his pore estat 
Of winter, that him naked made and mat,* 
And with his swerd of cold so sore had 

greved. 
Now had the atempre sonne al that releved, 
And clothed him in grene al newe agayn. 
The smale foules, of the seson fayn. 
That from the panter^ and the net ben 

scaped, ^^^ 

Upon the fouler, that hem made a-whaped ^ 

1 of quite another matter. 2 arbor. 3 With raised 
seats of turf. * dead. b large bird-net. « scared. 



In winter, and distroyed had hir brood, 
In his despyt, hem thoughte hit did hem 

good 
To singe of him, and in hir song despyse 
The foule cherl that, for his covetyse, 
Had hem betrayed with his sophistrye. 
This was hir song — ' The fouler we defye! ' 
Somme songen [layes] on the braimches 

clere 
Of love and [May], that joye hit was to 

here, 
In worship and in prey sing of hir make,' 
And of the newe blisfiil someres sake, 130 
That songen, ' Blissed be seynt Valentyn! 
[For] at his day I chees yow to be myn, 
With-oiite repenting, myn herte swete!' 
And ther\vith-al hir bekes gonnen mete. 
They dide honour and humble obei- 

saunces, 
And after diden other observannces 
Right [plesing] un-to love and to nature; 
So ech of hem [doth wel] to creature. 
This song to herkne I dide al myn entente. 
For- why I mette ^ I wiste what they mente. 
Til at the laste a larke song above: 141 

' I see, quod she, ' the mighty god of love ! 
Lo ! yond he cometh, 1 see his winges 

sprede ! ' 
Tho gan I loken endelong the mede, 
And saw him come, and in his bond a queue. 
Clothed in ryal abite al of grene. 
A fret ^ of gold she hadde next hir heer. 
And up-on that a whyt coroun she beer 
With many floures, and I shal nat lye; 
For al the world, right as the daj'esye 150 
I-coroned is with whyte leves lyte, 
Swich were the floures of hir corouu whyte. 
For of o perle fyu and oriental 
Hir whyte coroun was y-maked al; 
For which the whyte corouu, above the 

grene. 
Made hir lyk a daysie for to sene. 
Considered eek the fret of gold above. 

Y-clothed was this mighty god of love 
Of silk, y-brouded ^° ful of grene greves; 
A garlond on his heed of rose-leves 160 

Steked al with lilie floures newe; 
But of his face I can nat seyn the hewe. 
For sekirly his face shoon so brighte, 
That wath the gleem a-stoned was the 

sighte ; 
A furlong-wey I mighte him nat beholde. 
But at the laste in hande I saw him holds 



1 their mate. 
9 ornament. 



8 Because I dreamt. 
10 embroidered. 



i86 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Two fyry dartes, as the gledes ^ rede; 
And aungellich his wenges gau he sprede. 
And al be that men seyn that blind is he, 
Al-gate 2 me thoughte he mighte wel y- 

see; 170 

For sternely on me he gan biholde, 
So that his loking doth myn herte colde. 
And by the hande he held the noble quene, 
Corouned with whyte, and clothed al in 

grene. 
So womanly, so benigne, and so meke. 
That in this world, thogh that men wolde 

seke, 
Half hir beaiitee shulde men nat finds 
In creature tliat formed is by kinde, 
Hir name was Alceste the debonayre; 
I prey to God that ever falle she fay re! 180 
For ne hadde confort been of hir presence, 
I bad be deed, withonten any defence. 
For drede of Loves wordes and his chere, 
As, whan tyme is, her-after ye shal here. 
Byhind this god of love, up-on this grene, 
I saw cominge of ladyes nyntene 
In ryal abite, a ful esy pas, 
And after hem com of wemen swich a 

tras^ 
That, sin that God Adam made of erthe. 
The thredde part of wemen, ne the ferthe, 
Ne wende I nat by possibilitee 191 

Hadden ever in this world y-be; 
And trewe of love thise wemen were 

echoon. 
Now whether was that a wonder thing 

or noon, 
That, right anoon as that they gonne espye 
This flour, which that I clepe the dayesye, 
Ful sodeinly they stinten alle at-ones. 
And kneled adoun, as it were for the 

nones. 
And after that they wenten in compas, 
Daunsinge aboute this flour an esy pas, 200 
And songen, as it were in carole-wyse, 
This baldde, which that I shal yow devyse. 

BALADE 

Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere; 
Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun ; 
Hyd, Jonathas,^ al thy friendly manere; 
Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun, 
Mak of your wyfhod no comparisonn; 
Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude° and Eleyne,^ 
Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne."^ 

» firebrands. 2 Nevertheless. 3 heap. * Jona- 
than. 5 iseult, Isolde. ^ Elaine who loved Lancelot, 
or Helen of Troy. ^ bedim. 



Thy faire bodye, lat hit nat appere, 210 
Lavyne ; and thou, Lucresse of Home toun. 
And Polixeue, that boghte love so dere, 
Eek Cleopatre, with al thy passioun, 
Hyde ye your trouthe in love and your re- 
noun; 
And thou, Tisbe, that hast for love swich 

peyne : 
Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne. 

Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle in-fere, 
Eek Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun, 
And Canace, espyed by thy chere, 
Ysiphile, betrayed with Jasoun, 220 

Mak of your trouthe in love no host ne souu; 
Nor Ypermistre ^ or Adriaue,^ ne pleyne; 
Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne. 

Whan that this balade al y-songen was, 
Upon the softe and swote grene gras, 
They setten hem ful softely adoun, 
By ordre alle in compas, alle enveroun. 
First sat the god of love, and than this quene 
With the whyte corouu, clad in grene; 
And sithen al the remenant by and by,^*' 230 
As they were of degree,^^ ful curteisly; 
Ne nat a word was spoken in the place 
The mountance of a f nrlong-wey of space.^ 

I, lening faste by under a bente,i^ 
Abood, to knowen what this peple mente, 
As stille as any stoon; til at the laste, 
The god of love on me his eye caste, 
And seyde, 'Who resteth ther?' and I 

answerde 
Un-to his axing, whan that I him herde. 
And seyde, * Sir, hit am I ' ; and cam him 

neer, 240 

And sained him. Quod he, * What dostow 

heer 
In my presence, and that so boldely ? 
For it were better worthy, trewely, 
A werm to coraen in my sight than thou.* 

* And whv, sir,' quod I, ' and hit lyke 

yow?' 

* For thou,' quod he, 'art ther-to nothing 

able.14 
My servaunts been alle wyse and honour- 
able. 
Thou art my mortal fo, and me warreyest,!^ 
And of myne olde servaunts thou misseyest, 
And hinderest hem, with thy translacioun, 
And lettest^® folk to han devocioun 251 

8 Hypermnestra. 9 Ariadne. i" alongside. 

11 according to rank. 12 The amount of time it takes 
to go a furlong. i3 little hill, "suitable, is makest 
war upon. le dost hinder. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



187 



To serven me, and baldest hit folye 

To troste on me. Thou mayst hit nat 

denye; 
For in pleyn text, hit nedeth nat to glose,i 
Thou hast translated the Romauns of the 

Rose, 
That is an heresye ageyns my lawe, 
And makest wyse folk fro me withdrawe. 
And thinkest in thy wit, that is ful cool,^ 
That he nis but a verray propre fool 
That loveth paramours,^ to harde and 

bote. 260 

Wei wot I ther-by thou beginnest dote 
As olde f oles, whan hir spirit f ayletb ; 
Than blame they folk, and wite nat what 

hem ayleth. 
Hast thou nat mad in English eek the book 
How that Crisseyde Troilus forsook, 
In shewinge how that wemen ban don mis ? 
But natheles, answere me now to this, 
Why noldest thou as wel ban seyd good- 

nesse 
Of wemen, as thou hast seyd wikkednesse? 
Was ther no good niatere in thy minde, 270 
Ne in alle thy bokes coudest thou nat finde 
Sum story of wemen that were goode and 

trewe ? 
Yis ! God wot, sixty bokes olde and newe 
Hast thou thy-self , alle fulle of stories grete, 
Tliat bothe Romains and eek Grekes trete 
Of sundry wemen, which lyf that they ladde, 
And ever an hundred gode ageyn oon badde. 
This knoweth God, and alle clerkes eke, 
That usen swiche materes for to seke. 279 
What seith Valerie,^ Titus,^ or Claudian^ ? 
What seith Jerome ageyns Jovinian ? "> 
How clene maydens, and how trewe wyves, 
How stedfast widwes during al hir lyves, 
Telleth Jerome; and that nat of a fewe, 
But, I dar seyn, an hundred on a rewe ; 
That hit is pitee for to rede, and routhe, 
The wo that they enduren for hir trouthe. 
For to hir love were they so trewe, 
That, rather than they wolde take a newe, 
They chosen to be dede in sundry wyse, 
And deyden, as the story wol devyse; 291 
And some Avere brend, and some were cut 

the hals,^ 
And some dreynt,^ for they wolden nat be 

fals. 

} explain It away. 2 stupid. s like a lover. 

4 Supposed author of a bitter mediaeval treatise 
against marriage. 

6 Livy. 6 In his De JRaptu Proserpinae f 

"> The Saint's famous tirade against women and 
marriage. a had their throats cut. » drowned. 



For alle keped they hir maydenbed. 
Or elles wedlok, or hir widwehed. 
And this thing was nat kept for holinesse. 
But al for verray vertu and clennesse. 
And for men shulde sette on hem no lak,^*' 
And yit they weren hethen, al the pak, 
That were so sore adrad of alle shame. 300 
These olde wemen kepte so hir name. 
That in this world I trow men shal nat finde 
A man that coude be so trewe and kinde, 
As was the leste woman in that tyde. 
What seith also the epistles of Ovyde 
Of trewe wyves, and of hir labour ? 
What Vincent, in his Storial Mirour ? ^^ 
Eek al the world of autours maystow here, 
Cristen and hethen, trete of swich matere; 
It nedeth nat alday thus for t'endyte, 310 
But yit I sey, what eyleth thee to wryte 
The draf '^ of stories, and forgo the corn ? 
By seint Venus, of whom that I was born, 
Although [that] thou reneyed hast my 

lay,i3 
As othere olde foles many a day. 
Thou shalt repente hit, that hit shal be 
sene! 

Than spak Alceste, the worthieste queue, 
And seyde, ' God, right of your curtesye, 
Ye moten herknen if he can replye 
Ageyns these points that ye han to him 
meved; 320 

A god ne sholde nat be thus agreved, 
But of his deitee he shal be stable. 
And therto rightful and eek merciable. 
He shal nat rightfully his yre wreke 
Or he have herd the tother party speke. 
Al ne is nat gospel that is to yow pleyned; 
The god of love berth many a tale y-f eyned. 
For in your court is many a losengeour,!^ 
And many a queynte totelere ^^ accusour, 
That tabouren ^^ m your eres many a thing 
For hate, or for jelous imagining, 331 

And for to han with yow som daliaunce. 
Envye (I prey toGodyeve hir mischaunce!) 
Is lavender ^'^ in the grete court alway. 
For she ne parteth, neither night ne day, 
Out of the hous of Cesar; thus seith 

Dante; 18 
Who-so that goth, alwey she moot [nat] 

wante. 
This man to yow may wrongly been ac- 
cused, 
Ther as by right him oghte been excused. 

10 reproach, n The Speculum Historialeoi Yincent 
of Beauvais, thirteenth century. 12 chaff. 

13 renounced my religion. i"* flatterer. is tattling. 

16 drum. 1' laundress, harlot, is In/emo, xiii, 64. 



i88 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Or elles, sir, for that this man is nyce,^ 340 
He may translate a thing in no malyce, 
But for he useth bokes for to make, 
And takth non heed of what matere he 

take ; 
Therfor he wroot the Rose and eek Cris- 

seyde 
Of innocence, and niste what he seyde; 
Or him was boden make thilke tweye 
Of som persone, and durste hit nat with- 

seye; 
For he hath writen many a book er this. 
He ne hath nat doon so grevously amis 
To translaten that olde clerkes wryten, 350 
As thogh that he of malice wolde endyten 
Despyt of love, and hadde him-self y- 

wroght. 
This shulde a rightwys lord han in his 

thoght. 
And nat be lyk tiraunts of Lumbardye, 
That usen wilfulhed and tirannye, 
For he that king or lord is natural, 
Him oghte nat be tiraunt ne cruel, 
As is a fermour,^ to doon the harm he 

can. 
He moste thinke hit is his lige man. 
And that him oweth, of verray duetee, 360 
Shewen his peple pleyn benigiiitee. 
And wel to here hir excusaciouns, 
And hir compleyntes and petieiouns. 
In duewe tyme, whan they shal hit profre. 
This is the sentence of the philosophre: 
A king to kepe his liges in justyce, 
With-outen doute, that is his offyce. 
And therto is a king ful depe y-sworn, 
Ful many an hundred winter heer-biforn; 
And for to kepe his lordes hir degree, 370 
As hit is right and skilful that they be 
Enhaunced and honoured, and most dere — 
For they ben half-goddes in this world 

here — 
This shal he doon, bothe to pore [and] 

riche, 
Al be that her estat be nat a-liche, 
And han of pore folk compassioun. 
For lo, the gentil kind of the lioun ! 
For whan a flye offendeth him or byteth, 
He with his tayl awey the flye smyteth 
Al esily; for, of his genterye, 380 

Him deyneth nat to wreke him on a flye, 
As doth a curre or elles another beste. 
In noble corage oghte been areste. 
And weyen every thing by equitee. 
And ever han reward to his owen degree. 
1 foolish. 2 farmer of taxes, extortioner. 



For, sir, hit is no maystrie for a lord 

To dampne a man with-oute answere or 

word; 
And, for a lord, that is ful foul to use. 
And if so be he may him nat excuse, 389 
[But] axeth mercy with a sorweful herte. 
And profreth him, right in his bare sherte, 
To been right at your owne jugement. 
Than oghte a god, by short avysement, 
Considre his owne honour and his trespas. 
For sith no cause of deeth lyth in this cas, 
Yow oghte been the lighter merciable; 
Letethyour yre, and beth som what tretable ! 
The man hath served yow of his conning. 
And forthered your lawe with his making. 
Whyl he was yong, he kepte your estat ; 400 
I not wher he be now a renegat. 
But wel I wot, with that he can endyte, 
He hath maked lewed folk delyte 
To serve you, in prey sing of your name. 
He made the book that hight the Hous of 

Fame, 
And eek the Deeth of Blaunche the Duch- 

esse. 
And the Parlement of Foules, as I gesse, 
And al the love of Palamon and Arcyte 
Of Thebes, thogh the story is knowen lyte; 
And many an ympne ^ for your halydayes, 
That highten Balades, Roundels, Virelayes; 
And for to speke of other besinesse, 412 
He hath in prose translated Boece; 
And of the Wreched Engendring of Man- 

kinde, 
As man may in pope Innocent y-finde; 
And mad the Lyf also of seynt Cecyle; 
He made also, goon sithen a greet whyl, 
Origenes upon the Maudeleyne; 
Him oghte now to have the lesse peyne; 
He hath mad many a lay and many a 

thing. 420 

Now as yo been a god, and eek a king, 
I, your Alceste, whylom queue of Trace, 
I axe yow this man, right of your grace, 
That ye him never hurte in al his lyve ; 
And he shal sweren yow, and that as blyve,^ 
He shal no more agilten^ in this wyse; 
But be shal maken, as ye wil devyse, 
Of wemen trewe in lovinge al hir lyve, 
Wher-so ye wil, of maiden or of wyve, 
And forthren yow, as muche as he mis- 

seyde 430 

Or in the Rose or elles in Criseyde.' 

The god of love answerde hir thus anoon, 
* Madame,' quod he, * hit is so long agoon 
8 hymn. * forthwith. 5 be guilty. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



189 



That I yow knew so charitable and trewe, 
That never yit, sith that the world was 

newe, 
To me ne fond I better noon than ye ; 
That, if that I wol save my degree, 
I may ne wol nat warne your requeste; 
Al lyth in yow, doth with him what yow 

leste, 439 

And al f oryeve, with-outen lenger space ; 
For who-so yeveth a yift, or doth a grace. 
Do hit by tyme, his thank is vvel the 

more; 
And demeth ye what he shal do therfore. 
Go thanke now my lady heer,' quod he. 

I roos, and doun I sette me on my knee, 
And seyde thus : ' Madame, the God above 
Foryelde ^ yow, that ye the god of love 
Han maked me his wrathe to f oryive ; 
And yeve me grace so long for to live. 
That I may kuowe soothly what ye be, 450 
That han me holpen, and put in swich de- 
gree. 
But trewely I wende, as in this cas. 
Naught have agilt, ne doon to love tres- 

pas. 
For why a trewe man, with-outen drede, 
Hath nat to parten with ^ a theves dede ; 
Ne a trewe lover oghte me nat blame, 
Thogh that I speke a fals lover som shame. 
They oghte rather with me for to holde. 
For that I of Creseyde wroot or tolde, 
Or of the Rose; what-so myn auctour 

mente, 
Algate, God wot, hit was myn entente 461 
To forthren trouthe in love and hit cheryce; 
And to be war fro falsnesse and fro vyce 
By swich ensaniple; this was my meninge,' 
And she answerde, * Lat be thyn argu- 

inge; 
For Love ne wol nat conntrepleted ^ be 
In right ne wrong; and lerne this at me! 
Thou hast thy grace, and hold thee right 

ther-to. 
Now wol I seyn what penance thou shalt 

do 
For thy trespas, and understond hit here : 
Thou shalt, whyl that thou livest, yeer by 

yere, 471 

The moste party of thy lyve spende 
In making of a glorious Legende 
Of Gode Wemen, maidenes and wyves, 
That were trewe in lovings al hir lyves; 
And telle of false men that hem bitrayen, 
That al hir lyf ne doon nat but assayen 
1 Repay. - has no part in. 8 pleaded against. 



How many wemen they may doon a shame; 
For in your world that is now holden game. 
And thogh thou lesteth nat a lover be, 4S0 
Spek wel of love; this penance yeve I thee. 
And to the god of love I shal so preye, 
That he shal charge his servants, by any 

weye, 
To forthren thee, and wel thy labour quy te ; 
Go now thy wey, thy penance is but lyte.' 
The god of love gan smyle, and than he 

seyde, 
' Wostow,' quod he, * wher this be wyf or 

mayde. 
Or queue, or countesse, or of what degree, 
That hath so litel penance yeven thee, 
That hast deserved sorer for to smerte? 490 
But pitee renneth sone in gentil herte; 
That mayst thou seen, she kytheth ^ what 

she is.' 
And I answerde, ' Nay, sir, so have I blis. 
No more but that I see wel she is good.' 

* That is a trewe tale, by myn hood,' 
Quod Love, 'and that thou knowest wel, 

pardee. 
If hit be so that thou avyse thee. 
Hastow nat in a book, lyth in thy cheste, 
The grete goodnesse of the queue Alceste, 
That turned was into a dayesye: 500 

She that for hir husbonde chees to dye, 
And eek to goon to helle, rather than he. 
And Ercules rescued hir, pardee. 
And broghte hir out of helle agayn to 
blis ? ' 

And I apswerde ageyn, and seyde, * Yis, 
Now knowe I hir! And is this good Alceste, 
The dayesye, and myn owne hertes reste ? 
Now fele I wel the goodnesse of this wyf. 
That bothe after hir deeth, and in hir lyf, 
Hir grete bountee doubleth hir renoun! 510 
Wel hath she quit me myn affeccioun 
That I have to hir flour, the dayesye! 
No wonder is thogh Jove hir stellifye, 
As telleth Agaton,^ for hir goodnesse! 
Hir whyte coroun berth of hit witnesse; 
For also many vertues hadde she, 
As smale floures in hir coroun be. 
In remembraunce of hir and in honour, 
Cibella^ made the dayesy and the flour 
Y-coroned al with whyt, as men may see; 520 
And Mars yaf to hir coroun reed, pardee. 
In stede of rubies, set among the whyte.' 

Therwith this quene wex reed for shame 
a lyte, 

* makes known. s Possibly the Athenian tragic 
poet of the fifth century b.c. 6 Cybele. 



IQO 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



Whan she was preysed so in hir presence. 
Than seyde Love, * A ful gret negligence 
Was hit to thee, to write unstedfastnesse 
Of women, sith thou kuowest hir good- 

nesse 
By preef, and eek by stories heer-biforn; 
Let be the chaf, and wryt wel of the corn. 
Why noldest thou ban writen of Alceste, 530 
And leten Criseide been a-slepe and reste ? 
For of Alceste shulde thy wryting be, 
Sin that thou wost tliat kalender ^ is she 
Of goodnesse, for she taughte of fyn lov- 

inge, 
And namely of wyfhood the livinge, 
And alle the boundes that she oghte kepe; 
Thy litel wit was thilke tyme a-slepe. 
But now I charge thee, upon thy lyf, 538 
That in thy legend thou make of this wyf , 
Whan thou hast othere smale maad be- 
fore; 
And fare now wel, I charge thee no more. 

At Cleopatre I wol that thou beginne ; 
And so forth; and my love so shalt thou 

winne.' 
And with that word of sleep I gan a-awake. 
And right thus on my Legend gan I make. 



THE LEGEND OF CLEOPATRA 

Incipit Legenda Cleopatrie^ Martiris, Egipti 
regine. 

Aftek the deeth of Tholomee ^ the king, 
That al Egipte hadde in his governing, 
Regned his quene Cleopataras; 
Til on a tyme befel ther swiche a cas, 
That out of Rome was sent a senatour, 
For to conquereu regnes and honour 
Unto the touu of Rome, as was usaunce, 
To have the world unto her obeisaunce; 
And, sooth to seye, Antonius was his name. 
So fil hit, as Fortune him oghte ^ a shame 10 
Whan he was fallen in prosperitee, 
Rebel unto the toun of Rome is he. 
And over al this, the suster of Cesar, 
He lafte hir falsly, er that she was war, 
And wolde algates ban another wyf; 
For whiche he took with Rome and Cesar 

stryf. 
Natheles, for-sooth, this like senatour 
Was a ful worthy gentil werreyour, 
And of his deeth hit was ful greet damage. 
But love had broght this man in swiche a 

rage, 20 

X example. * Ptolemy. > owed. 



And him so narwe bounden in his las, 
Al for the love of Cleopataras, 
That al the world he sette at no value. 
Him thoughte, nas to him no thing so due 
As Cleopatras for to love and serve; 
Him roghte ^ nat in armes for to sterve 
In the defence of hir, and of hir right. 
This noble qu3ue eek lovede so this 

knight. 
Through his desert, and for his chivalrye; 
As certeinly, but-if that bokes lye, 30 

He was, of persone and of gentilesse, 
And of discrecioun and hardinesse, 
Worthy to any wight that liven may, 
And she was fair as is the rose in May. 
And, for to maken shortly is the beste, 
She wex his wyf, and hadde him as hir 

leste. 
The wedding and the feste to devyse, 
To me, that have y-take swiche empryse 
Of so many a storie for to make, 
Hit were to long, lest that I sholde slake 40 
Of thing that bereth more effect and charge ;^ 
For men may overlade a ship or barge; 
And forthy to th'effect than wol I skippe, 
And al the reraenant, I wol lete hit slippe. 

Octovian, that wood ^ was of this dede, 
Shoop '' him an ost on Antony to lede 
Al-outerly for his destruccioun. 
With stoute Remains, cruel as leoun; 
To ship they wente, and thus I let hem 

saile. 
Antonius was war, and wol nat faile 50 
To raeten with thise Romains, if he may; 
Took eek his reed, and bothe, upon a day. 
His wyf and he, and al his ost, forth wente 
To shippe anoon, no lenger they ne stente; 
And in the see hit happed hem to mete. 
Up goth^ the trompe, and for to shoute 

and shete,^ 
And peynen hem to sette on with the sonne.^'' 
With grisly soun out goth 11 the grete gonne, 
And heterly ^ they hnrtlen ^^ al at ones, 
And fro the top ^^ doun cometh the grete 

stones. 60 

In goth the grapenel so ful of crokes 
Among the ropes, and the shering-hokes. 
In with the polax presseth he and he; 
Behind the mast beginneth he to flee, 
And out agayn, and dryveth him over- 

borde ; 
He stingeth him upon his speres orde;^* 

* recked, b weight. « angry. ^ Shaped, i.e. pre- 
pared. 8 sounds. 9 shoot, loose infinitive, i" To attack 
with the 8un at their back. " off goes. i« ferociously. 
11 clash together. ^^ station up on the mast, i' point. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



191 



He rent the sail with hokes lyke a sythe; 
He briiigeth the cuppe, and biddeth hem be 

bly the ; 
He poureth pesen upon the hacches slider; ^ 
With pottes ful of lym^ they goon to- 

gider; 70 

And thus the longe day in fight they spende 
Til, at the last, as every thing hath ende, 
Antony is shent,^ and put him to the flighte, 
And al his folk to-go,^ that best go mighte. 
Fleeth eek the queen, with al her purpre 

sail, 
For strokes, which that wente as thikke as 

hail; 
No wonder was, she mighte hit nat en- 
dure. 
And whan that Antony saw that aventure, 
* Alas ! ' quod he, ' the day that I was born ! 
My worshipe in this day thus have I lorn ! ' 80 
And for dispeyr out of his witte he sterte, 
And roof ^ him-self anoon through-out the 

herte 
Er that he ferther wente out of the place. 
His wyf, that coude of Cesar have no grace, 
To Egipte is fled, for drede and for dis- 

tresse. 
But herkneth, ye that speke of kindenesse. 
Ye men, that falsly sweren many an 00th 
That ye wol dye, if that your love be 

wrooth, 
Heer may ye seen of women whiche a 

trouthe! 
This woful Cleopatre hath mad swich 

routhe 90 

That ther nis tonge noon that may hit 

telle. 
But on the morwe she wol no lenger 

dwelle, 
But made hir subtil werkmen make a 

shryne 
Of alle the rubies and the stones fyne 
In al Egipte that she coude espye ; 
And putte ful the shryne of spycerye, 
And leet the cors embaume ; and forth she 

fette 
This dede cors, and in the shryne hit 

shette. 
And next the shryne a pit than doth she 

grave ; 
And alle the serpents that she mighte 

have, 100 

1 Apparently "pours peas upon the slippery deck," 
I.e. to make the deck slippery. But v. Kittredge 
Anniversary Papers, p. 149, for another explanation. 

2 Loose quicklime to blind the enemy. 
> ruined. * disperse. ^ pierced. 



She putte hem in that grave, and thus she 

seyde : 
'Now love, to whom my sorweful herte 

obeyde 
So ferforthly that, fro that blisful houre 
That I yow swor to been al frely youre, 
I mene yow, Antouius my knight ! 
That never waking, in the day or night. 
Ye nere out of myn hertes remembrauuce 
For wele or wo, for carole or for daunce; 
And in my-self this covenant made I tho, 
That, right swich as ye felten, wele or 

wo, no 

As ferforth as hit in my power lay, 
Unreprovable unto ray wyfhood ay, 
The same wolde I felen, lyf or deeth. 
And thilke covenant, whyl me lasteth 

breeth, 
I wol fulfiUe, and that shal wel be sene; 
Was never unto hir love a trewer queue.' 
And with that word, naked, with ful good 

herte. 
Among the serpents in the pit she sterte, 
And ther she chees to ban hir buryinge. 
Anoon the neddres gonne hir for to 

stinge, 120 

And she hir deeth receyveth, with good 

chere, 
For love of Antony, that was hir so 

dere: — 
And this is storial sooth,^hit is no fable. 
Now, er I finde a man thus trewe and 

stable, 
And wol for love his deeth so freely 

take, 
I pray God lat our hedes never ake! 

Explicit Legenda Cleo/>atrie, Martiris. 



THE LEGEND OF LUCRETIA 

Incipit Legenda Lticrecie Rome, Martiris. 

Now moot I seyn the exiling of kinges 
Of Rome, for hir horrible doinges, 
And of the laste king Tarquinius, 
As saith Ovyde and Titus Livius. 
But for that cause telle I nat this storie, 
But for to preise and drawen to memorie 
The verray wyf, the verray trewe Lucresse, 
That, for her wyfhood and her steadfast- 

nesse, 
Nat only that thise payens her comende, 
But he, that cleped is in our legende 10 
6 historical truth. 



192 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



The grete Austin,^ hath greet compas- 

sioun 
Of this Liiciesse, that starf at Rome 

toun ; 
And ill what wyse, I wol but shortly 

trete, 
And of this thing I touche but the grete.^ 

Whan Ardea beseged was aboute 
With Remains, that ful sterne were and 

stoute, 
Ful longe lay the sege, and litel wroghte,^ 
So that tliey were half ydel, as hem 

thoghte; 
And in his pley Tarqninius the yonge 
Gan for to jape, for he was light of 

tonge, 20 

And seyde, that 'It was an ydel lyf; 
No man did ther no more than his wyf ; 
And lat us speke of wyves, that is best; 
Praise every man his owne, as him lest, 
And with our spec-he lat us ese our herte.' 
A knight, that highte Colatyne, up 

sterte, 
And seyde thus, ' Nay, for hit is no nede 
To trowen on the word, but on the dede. 
I have a wyf,' quod he, ' that, as I trowe, 
Is holden good of alle that ever her 

knowe; 30 

Go we to-night to Rome, and we shul 

see.' 
Tarquinius answerde, * That lyketh me.' 
To Rome be they come, and faste hem 

dighte ^ 
To Colatynes hous, and doun they lighte, 
Tarquinius, and eek this Colatyne. 
The husboud knew the estres ^ wel and 

fyne, ^ 
And prively into the hous they goon; 
Nor at the gate porter was ther noon ; 
And at the ehambre-dore they abyde. 
This noble wyf sat by her beddes syde 40 
Dischevele, for no malice she ne thoghte; 
And softe woUe our book seith that she 

wroghte 
To kepen her fro slouthe and ydelnesse ; 
And bad her servants doon hir businesse, 
And axeth hem, ' What tydings heren 

ye? 
How seith men of the sege, how shal hit 

be? 
God wolde the walles weren falle adoun; 
Myn husbond is so longe out of this toun, 

1 St. Augustine in his City of God. 2 main points. 
3 The beleaguering was long and ineffective. 
* repaired. 6 rooms. 



For which the dreed doth me so sore 

smerte. 
Right as a swerd hit stingeth to myn 

berte 50 

Whan I think on the sege or of that 

place; 
God save my lord, I preye him for bis 

grace : ' — 
And ther-with-al ful tenderly she weep. 
And of her werk she took no more keep. 
But mekely she leet her eyen falle; 
And thilke semblant sat her wel with-alle. 
And eek her teres, ful of honestee, 
Embelisshed her wyfiy chastitee; 
Her countenaunce is to her herte digne. 
For they acordeden in dede and signe. 60 
And with that word her husbond Colatyn, 
Or she of him was war, com starting in. 
And seide, ' Dreed thee noght, for I am 

here ! ' 
And she anoon up roos, with blisful chere, 
And kiste him, as of wyves is the wone.® 

Tarquinius, this proude kinges sone, 
Conceived "' hath her beautee and her chere, 
Her yelow heer, her shap, and her manere. 
Her hew, her wordes that she hath com- 

pleyned. 
And by no crafte her beautee nas nat 

f eyned ; 70 

And caughte to this lady swich desyr, _^ 
That in his herte brende as any fyr 
So woodly, that his wit was al forgeten. 
For wel, thoghte he, she sholde nat be 

geten ; 
And ay the more that he was in dispair. 
The more he coveteth and thoghte her 

fair. 
His blinde lust was al his cove tinge. 

A-morwe, whan the brid began to singe, 
Unto the sege he comth ful privily. 
And by himself he walketh sobrely, 80 

Th' image of her recording alwey newe; 
' Thus lay her heer, and thus fresh was her 

hewe; 
Thus sat, thus spak, thus span; this was 

her chere. 
Thus fair she was, and this was her manere.' 
Al this conceit his herte hath now y-take. 
And, as the see, with tempest al to-shake, 
That, after whan the storm is al ago, 
Yet wol the water quappe ^ a day or two. 
Right so, thogh that her forme wer ab- 
sent, 
The plesaunce of her forme was present; 90 
8 wont, custom. ^ Perceived. s be tempestuous. 



THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 



193 



But natheles, nat plesaunce, but delyt, 
Or an unrightful talent ^ with despy t ; 

* For, maugre her,^ she shal my lemman ^ 

be; 
Hap helpeth hardy man alday,'^ quod he; 
•What ende that I make, hit shal be so;' 
And girt him with his swerde, and gan to 

go; 

And forth he rit ^ til he to Rome is come, 
And al aloon his way than hath he nome ® 
Unto the house of Colatyn ful right. 
Doun was the Sonne, and day hath lost his 
light; 100 

And in he com un-to a privy halke/ 
And in the night ful theefly ^ gan he stalke, 
Whan every wight was to his reste broght, 
Ne no wight had of tresoun swich a thoght. 
Were hit by window or by other gin,^ 
With swerde y-drawe, shortly he comth in 
Ther as she lay, this noble wyf Lucresse. 
And, as she wook, her bed she felte presse. 

* What beste is that,' quod she, * that weyeth 

thus ? ' 
*I am the kinges sone, Tarquinius,' no 

Quod he, ' but and thou crye, or noise 

make, 
Or if thou any creature awake. 
By thilke God that formed man on lyve, 
This swerd through-out thyn herte shal I 

ryve.' 
And ther-withal unto her throte he sterte, 
And sette the point al sharp upon her 

herte. 
No word she spak, she hath no might 

therto. 
What shal she sayn ? her wit is al ago. 
Right as a wolf that fynt ^° a lomb aloon. 
To whom shal she compleyne, or make 

moon ? 120 

What ! shal she fighte with an hardy 

knight ? 
Wei wot men that a woman hath no might. 
What ! shal she crye, or how shal she 

asterte 
That hath her by the throte, with swerde 

at herte ? 
She axeth grace, and seith al that she 

can. 
*Ne wolt thou nat,' quod he, this cruel 

man, 

* As wisly 11 Jupiter my soule save, 
As- 1 shal in the stable slee thy knave, 

1 passion. 2 in spite of herself. s mistress. 

4 Fortime always favors the brave. ^ rideth. 

6 taken. ? corner. 8 like a thief. ^ contrivance, 
w findeth. " So sure as. 



And leye him in thy bed, and loude crye. 
That I thee finde in suche avouterye ; ^ 130 
Aud thus thou shalt be deed, and also lese ^^ 
Thy name, for thou shalt none other chese.' 
Thise Romain wyves loveden so hir name 
At thilke tyme, and dredden so the shame, 
That, what for fere of slaundre and drede 

of deeth, 
She loste bothe at-ones wit and breeth. 
And in a swough^^ she lay and wex so 

deed. 
Men mighte smyten of her arm or heed; 
She feleth no-thiug, neither foul ne fair. 

Tarquinius, that art a kinges eyr, 140 

And sholdest, as by linage and by right, 
Doon as a lord and as a verray knight. 
Why hastow doon dispyt to chivalrye ? 
Why hastow doon this lady vilanye ? 
Alias ! of thee this was a vileins dede ! 

But now to purpos; in the story I rede. 
Whan he was goon, al this mischaunce is 

falle. 
This lady sente after her frendes alle, 
Fader, moder, husbond, al y-fere;^^ 
Aud al dischevele, with her heres clere, 150 
lu habit swich as women used tho 
Unto the buryiug of her frendes go, 
She sit in halle with a sorweful sighte. 
Her frendes axen what her aylen mighte, 
And who was deed ? And she sit ay wep- 

iuge, 
A word for shame ne may she forth out- 

briiige, 
Ne upon hem she dorste nat beholde. 
But atte laste of Tarquiuy she hem tolde, 
This rewful cas, and al this thing horrible. 
The wo to tellen hit were impossible, 160 
That she and alle her frendes made atones.^^ 
Al hadde folkes hertes been of stones, 
Hit mighte have makedhem upon her rewe, 
Her herte was so wyfly and so trewe. 
She seide, that, for her gilt ne for her 

blame, 
Her husbond sholde nat have the foule 

name, 
That wolde she nat suffre, by no wey. 
And they answerden alle, upon hir fey. 
That they foryeve hit her, for hit was right; 
Hit was no gilt, hit lay nat in her might; 170 
And seiden her ensamples many oon. 
But al for noght; for thus she seide anoon, 
* Be as be may,' quod she, ' of forgiving, 
I wol nat have no forgift^'^ for no-thing.' 



12 adultery. 
15 together. 



13 lose. 
10 at once. 



1^ swoon. 

1' forgiveness. 



194 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



But prively she caughte forth a knyf, 
And therwith-al she rafte her-self her lyf ; 
And as she f el adoun, she caste her look, 
And of her clothes yit she hede took; 
For in her falling yit she hadde care 
Lest that her feet or swiche thing lay 

bare; i8o 

So wel she loved clennesse and eek trouthe. 
Of her had al the toun of Rome routhe, 
And Brutus by her chaste blode hath swore 
That Tarquin shold e y-banisht be ther-f ore, 
And al his kin ; and let the peple calle, 
And openly the tale he tolde hem alle, 
And openly let carie her on a here 
Through al the toun, that men may see and 

here 
The horrible deed of her oppressioun. 
Ne never was ther king in Rome toun 190 
Sin thilke day; and she was holden there 
A seint, and ever her day y-halwed dere 



As in hir la we: and thus endeth Lucresse, 
The noble wyf, as Titus bereth witnesse. 
I tell hit, for she was of love so trewe, 
Ne in her wille she chaunged for no newe. 
And for the stable herte, sad and kinde, 
That in these women men may alday finde; 
Ther as they caste hir herte, ther hit 

dwelleth. 
For wel I wot, that Crist him-selve 

telleth, 200 

That in Israel, as wyd as is the lond. 
That so gret feith in al the lond he ne 

fond 
As in a woman ; and this is no lye. 
And as of men, loketh which tirannye 
They doon alday ; assay hem who so liste, 
The trewest is ful brotel ^ for to triste. 

Explicit Legenda Lucrecie Rome, Martiris. 

1 brittle. 



MINOR POEMS 



I 



CHAUCERS WORDES UNTO 

ADAM, 

HIS OWNE SCRIVEYNi 

Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bifalle 
Boece or Troilus to wryten newe, 
Under thy lokkes thou most have the scalle,^ 
But 3 after my making thou wryte trewe. 
So ofte a daye I mot thy werk renewe, 
Hit to correcte and eek to rubbe and scrape ; 
And al is through thy negligence and rape.^ 



THE FORMER AGE 



that 



BLISFUL lyf, a paisible and a swete 

Ledden the peples in the former age; 

They helde hem payed ^ of fruites, 
they ete, 

Which that the f eldes yave hem by usage ; 

They ne were nat forpampred with out- 
rage ; ^ 

Unknowen was the quern "^ and eek the 
melle ; ^ 

Theyeten mast, hawes, and swich pounage,^ 

And droiiken water of the colde welle. 

Yit nas the ground nat wounded with the 

plough, 
But corn up-sprong, unsowe of mannes 

bond, lo 

The which they gniden,!*^ and eete nat half 

y-nough. 
No man yit knew the forwes^^ of his lond; 
No man the fyr out of the flint yit fond; 
Un-korven and un-grobbed ^'^ lay the vyne ; 
No man yit in the morter spyces grond 
To clarre,^^ ne to sause of galantyne.^* 

No mader, welde, or wood no litestere 
Ne knew ; ^^ the flees was of his former hewe ; 

1 scrivener, scribe. 2 scab. 3 Unless. * destruc- 
tiveness. s pleased. « spoiled by pampering with 
excessive luxury. "> hand-mill. 8 mill. » swine's 
food. 10 bruised. " furrows. 12 Unpruned and 
imcultivated. i3 for spiced wine. 1* Galantine was 
an elaborate fish-sauce. 

16 No dyer knew the use of madder, weld, or woad — 
three dye-plants. 



No flesh ne wiste offence of ^gge, ^® or spere ; 
No coyn ne knew man which was fals or 

trewe; 20 

No ship yit karf the wawes grene and 

blewe; 
No marehaunt yit ne fette outlandish " 

ware; 
No trompes for the werres folk ne knewe, 
No toures heye, and walles rounde or square. 

What sholde it han avayled to werreye? ^^ 
Ther lay no profit, ther was no richesse; 
But cursed was the tyme, I dar wel seye, 
That men first dide hir swety bysinesse 
To grobbe up metal, lurkinge in darknesse, 
And in the riveres first gemmes soghte. 30 
Alias ! than sproiig up al the cursednesse 
Of covetyse, that first our sorwe broghte ! 

Thise tyraunts putte hem gladly nat in 

pres 
No wildnesse^^ ne no busshes for to winne 
Ther poverte is, as seith Diogenes, 
Ther as vitaile is eek so skars and thinne 
That noght but mast or apples is therinne. 
But, ther as bagges been and fat vitaile, 
Ther wol they gon, and spare for no sinne 
With al hir ost the cite for t'assaile. 40 



Yit 



paleis-chaumbres, ne non 



were no 
halles ; 

In caves and [in] wodes softe and swete 
Slepten this blissed folk with-oute walles, 
On gras or leves in parfit quiete. 
No doun of fetheres, ne no bleched shete 
Was kid 20 to hem, but in seurtee they 

slepte ; 
Hir hertes were al oon, with-oute galles, 
Everich of hem his feith to other kepte. 

Unforged was the hauberk and the plate ;2i 
The lambish22 peple, voyd of alle vyce, 50 
Hadden no fantasye to debate,-^ 
But ech of hem wolde other wel cheryce;^* 

16 edge, knife. i7 foreign. is fight. w wilder- 
ness. 20 known. 21 plate-armor. 22 innocent. 
23 no inclination to contend. 24 cherish. 



196 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



No pryde, non envye, non avaryce, 
No lord, no taylage ^ by no tyrannye; 
Humblesse and pees, good feith, the em- 
perice, 
[Fulfilled erthe of olde curtesye.] ^ 

Yit was not Jupiter the likerous,^ 
That first was fader of delicacye,^ 
Come in this world; ne Nembrot,* de- 
sirous 59 
To reynen, had nat maad his toures hye.^ 
Alias, alias ! now may men wepe and crye! 
For in our dayes nis but covetyse 
[And] doublenesse, and tresoun and envye, 
Poysoun, manslauhtre, and mordre in son- 
dry wyse. 



MERCILES BEAUTE: A TRIPLE 
ROUNDEL 

I. CAPTIVITY 

Your yen two wol slee me sodenly, 

I may the beauts of hem not sustene, 

So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene. 

And but your word wol helen hastily 
My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene, 
Your yen two wol slee me sodenly, 
I may the beaute of hem not sustene. 

Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully, 

That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the queue; 

For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene. 

Your yen two wol slee me sodenly , n 

1 may the beaute of hem not sustene, 

So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene. 

II. REJECTION 

So hath your beauts fro your herte chaced 
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; 
For Daunger halt '^ your mercy in his 
cheyne. 

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced; 

I sey yow sooth, me nedeth not to f eyne ; 
So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced 
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne. 20 

Alias! that nature hath in yow compassed 
So greet beauts, that no man may atteyne 
To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. 

1 taxation. 2 Line supplied by Skeat. » lustful. 
* sinful luxury. 5 Nimrod. 6 i.e. Babel. 
' Disdain holdetb. 



So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced 
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne ; 
For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne. 

III. ESCAPE 
Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, 
I never thenk to ben in his prison lene; 
Sin I am free, J counte him not a bene. 

He may answere, and seye this or that; 30 
I do no fors,^ I speke right as I mene. 
Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, 
1 never thenk to ben m his prison lene. 

Love hath my name y-strike out of his 

sclat,9 
And he is strike out of my bokes clene 
For ever-mo; ther is non other mene. 
Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, 
I never thenk to ben in his prison lene ; 
Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene. 



TRUTH 10 

Flee fro the prees, and dwelle with soth- 

fastnesse, 
Suffyce unto thy good,^! though hit be smal; 
For hord hath hate, and climbing tikel- 

nesse,^2 

Prees hath envye, and wele blent ^^ overal; 
Savour ^^ no more than thee bihove shal; 
Werk wel thy-self, that other folk canst 

rede; 
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.^^ 

Tempest i^ thee noght al croked to redresse, 
In trust of hir that turneth as a bal: ^"^ 
Gret reste stant in litel besinesse; 10 

And eek be war to sporne ageyn an al;^^ 
Stry ve noght, as doth the crokke ^^ with the 

wal. 
Daunte^o thy-self, that dauntest otheres 

dede; 
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

Thri thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse,^! 
The wrastling for this worlde axeth a fal. 

8 I care not. ' slate. 

10 It has recently been shown that this exhortation 
was addressed to a conspicuously busy and ambitious 
associate of Chaucer's, Sir Philip la Vache. See Modern 
Philology, xi, p. 209. 

11 Be satisfied with your possessions. 12 precarious- 
ness. 13 success blindeth. " Relish. is without 
doubt. 16 Vex. i^ i.e. Fortune. i^ kick against 
an awL i' pitcher. " Subdue. 21 submission. 



LENVOY DE CHAUCER A SCOGAN 



197 



Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse : 
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of 

thy stal! 
Know thy contree, look up, thank God of 

al; 
Hold the hye way, and lat thy gost thee 

lede: 20 

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

ENVOY 

Therfore, thou vache,^ leve thyn old 

wrecchednesse 
Unto the worlde; leve now to be thral; 
Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse 
Made thee of noght, and in especial 
Draw unto him, and pray in general 
For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich 

mede; 
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

Explicit Le bon counseill de G. Chaucer. 



GENTILESSE 

The firste stok, fader of gentilesse — '^ 
What man that claymeth gentil for to be, 
Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes 

dresse 
Vertu to sewe,^ and vyces for to flee. 
For unto vertu longeth dignitee, 
And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme, 
Al were * he mytre, croune, or diademe. 

This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse, 
Trewe of his word, sobre, pitons, and free, 
Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse, 10 
Ageinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee; 
And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he. 
He is noght gentil, thogh he riche seme, 
Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe. 

Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse; 
But ther may no man, as men may wel see, 
Beqiiethe his heir his vertu ous noblesse 
That is appropred unto no degree, 
But to the firste fader in magestee. 
That maketh his heir him that can him 
qneme,^ 20 

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe. 

1 Cow, beast, a play on la Vache's name. His crest 
was a cow's hoof. 

2 The original gentle-man. Tliese words without 
corresponding verb supply the antecedent to his in 
line 3. 

3 follow. * Though he wear. 5 please. 



LAK OF STEDFASTNESSE 

BALADE 

SoM tyme this world was so stedfast and 

stable, 
That mannes word was obligacioun. 
And now hit is so fals and deceivable, 
That word and deed, as in conclusioun; 
Ben no-thing lyk, for turned up so doun 
Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse, 
That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse. 

What maketh this world to be so variable. 
But lust that folk have in dissensioun ? 
Among us now a man is holde unable, 10 
But-if he can, by som collusioun, 
Don his neighbour wrong or oppressioun. 
What causeth this, but wilful wrecchednesse. 
That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse ? 

Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable; 
Vertu hath now no dominacioun; 
Pitee exyled, no man is merciable. 
Through covetyse is blent ^ discrecioun; 
The world hath mad a permutacioun 
Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikel- 
nesse, 20 

That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse. 

LENVOY TO KING RICHARD 

O prince, desyre to be honourable. 
Cherish thy folk and hate extorcioun! 
Suffre no thing, that may be reprevable 
To thyn estat, don in thy regioun. 
Shew forth thy swerd of castigacioun, 
Dred God, do law, love trouthe and worthi- 

nesse. 
And wed thy folk agein to stedfastnesse. 



LENVOY DE CHAUCER A 
SCOGAN 

To-broken been the statuts hye in hevene 

That creat were eternally to dure, 

Sith that I see the brighte goddes sevene ' 

Mow wepe and wayle, and passioun endure, 

As may in erthe a mortal creature. 

Alias, fro whennes may this thing procede? 

Of whiche errour I deye almost for drede. 

By worde eterne whylom was hit shape 
That fro the fifte cercle, in no manere, 
Ne mighte a drope of teres doun escape. 10 
« blinded. "> the planets. 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER 



But now so wepeth Venus in hir spere, 
That with hir teres she wol drenche us 

here. 
Alias, Scogan! this is for thyn offence! 
Thou causest this deluge of pestilence.^ 

Hast thou not seyd, in blaspheme of this 

goddes, 
Through pryde, or through thy grete rakel- 

nesse,2 
Swich thing as in the la we of love forbode 

is? 
That, for thy lady saw nat thy distresse, 
Therfor thou yave hir up at Michelmesse ! 
Alias, Scogan! of olde folk ne yonge 20 

Was never erst Scogan blamed for his 

tonge! 

Thou drowe in scorn Cupyde eek to record 
Of thilke rebel word that thou hast spoken, 
For which be wol no lenger be thy lord. 
And, Scogan, thogh his bowe be nat broken. 
He wol nat with his arwes been y-wroken ^ 
On thee, ne me, ne noon of our figure; ^ 
We shul of him have neyther hurt ne cure. 

Now certes, frend, I drede of thyn un- 
happe, 

Lest for thy gilt the wreche of Love pro- 
cede 

On alle hem that ben bore and rounde of 
shape, 31 

That ben so lykly folk in love to spede. 

Than shul we for our labour ban no mede; 

But wel I wot, thoTi wilt answere and seye : 

* Lo! olde Grisel list to ryme and pleye! ' 

Nay, Scogan, sey not so, for I m'excuse, 
God help me so! in no rym, doutelees, 
Ne thinke I never of slepe wak my muse. 
That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees. 
Whyl I was yong, I putte hir forth in 
prees, 40 

But al shal passe that men prose or ryme ; 
Take every man his turn, as for his tyme. 

1 This wretched deluge. Perhaps alluding to the 
floods of 1393. 2 rashness. 3 wreaked, revenged. 
4 i.e. portly figure, cf. 1. 31. 



ENVOY 
Scogan, that knelest at the stremes heed ® 
Of grace, of alle honour and worthinesse. 
In th'ende of which streme I am dul as deed, 
Forgete in solitarie wildernesse ; ^ 
Yet, Scogan, thenke on TuUius kindenesse, 
Minne "^ thy frend ther it may fructifye ! 
Far-wel, and lok thou never eft Love de- 
fyel 



THE COMPLEINT OF CHAUCER 
TO HIS EMPTY PURSE 

To you, my purse, and to non other wight 
Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere! 
I am so sory, now that ye be light; 
For certes, but ye make me bevy chere, 
Me were as leef be leyd up-on my here; 
For whiche un-to your mercy thus I crye: 
Beth bevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! 

Now voucheth sauf this day, or hit be night, 
That I of you the blisful soun may here. 
Or see your colour lyk the sonne bright, 10 
That of yelownesse hadde never pere, 
Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere,^ 
Quene of comfort and of good companye: 
Beth bevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! 

Now purs, that be to me my lyves light. 
And saveour, as doun in this worlde here, 
Out of this toune help me through your 

might, 
Sin that ye wole nat been my tresorere; 
For I am shave as nye as any frere. 
But yit I pray un-to your curtesye : 20 

Beth bevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! 

LENVOY DE CHAUCER 
O conquerour^ of Brutes Albioun! 
Which that by lyne and free eleccioun 
Ben verray king, this song to you I sende; 
And ye, that mowen al our harm amende. 
Have minde up-on my supplicacioun! 

" Probably Windsor, where the court was. 
6 Probably Greenwich. ^ Remember. 

8 steersman. » Henry IV, 1399. 



THOMAS HOCCLEVE 



EXTRAVAGANCE IN MEN'S 
DRESS 

( The Regement of Princes^ §§61-77) 

But this me thinkith an abusioun, 
To se on ^ walke in gownes of scarlet, 
xii yerdes wyd, with pendant sieves downe 
On the grounde, and the f urrour therin set 
Amountyng unto twenty pound or bet; ^ 
And if he for it payde have, he no good 
Hath lef te him where-with for to bye an 
hood. 

For thogh he jette ^ forth among the prees, 
And overloke everey pore wight, 
His cofre and eke his purs ben penylees, 10 
He hath no more than he goth in ryght."* 
For lond, rent, or catel,^ he may go light; 
The weght of hem schal not so mocha 

peyse ® 
As doth his gowue. Is swiche array to 

preyse ? 

Nay sothely, sone, it is al amys me think- 

yth; _ 
So pore a wight his lord to counterfete 
In his array, in my conceyit it stynkith. 
Certes to blame ben the lordes grete. 
If that I durste seyn, that hir men lete 
Usurpe swiche a lordly apparaille, 20 

Is not worth, my childe, withouten fayle. 

Som tyme, afer men myghten lordes knowe 
By there array, from other folke; but now 
A man schal stody and musen a long 

throwe "^ 
Whiche is whiche: O lordes, it sit ^ to yowe 
Amende this, for it is for youre pro we. ^ 
If twixt yow and youre men no difference 
Be in array, lesse is youre reverence. 

Also ther is another newe get,i<> 

A. foul wast of cloth and an excessyf ; ^ 

Ther goth no lesse in a mannes tipet 

1 one, people, 2 better, s strut. « merely. 
8 personal property, chattels, money. « weigh. 
^ while. 8 belongs. » profit. i" fashion. 



Than of brood cloth a yerde, by my lif ; 
Me thynkyth this a verray inductif 
Unto stelthe: ware hem of Hempen Lane ! 
For stelthe is medid with a chekelew bane.^^ 

Let evere lord, his owne men deffende ^ 
Swiche gret array, and than, on my peryl, 
This land within a while schal amende. 
In Goddys name, putte it in exyl ! 
It is synne outragious and vyl; ^ 

Lordes, if ye your estat and honour 
Loven, fleemyth ^^ this vicius errour ! 

What is a lord withouten his meynee ? 
I putte cas that his foos liym assaile 
Sodenly in the stret. What help schale he, 
Wos sleeves encombrous so syde ^^ traille, 
Do to his lord ? He may hym nat availle; 
In swych a cas he nys but a womman; 
He may nat stand hym in steed of a man. 

His armys two han ryght ynow to done, ^ 
And surawhat more, his sleeves up to holde; 
The taillours, trow I, moot heerafter soone 
Shape in the feeld; thay shal nat sprede 

and folde 
On hir bord, thogh thei never so fayn wolde, 
The cloth that shal ben m a gowne wroght; 
Take an hool cloth is best, for lesse is nogbt. 

The skynner unto the feeld moot also, 
His hous in London is to streyt and scars 
To doon his craft; sum tyme it was nat so. 
O lordes, yeve unto your men hir pars ^^ ^ 
That so doon, and aqwente hem bet with 

Mars, 
God of bataile ; he loveth non array 
That hurtyth manhode at preef ^^ or assay. 

Who now moost may here on his bak at ones 
Of cloth and furrour, hath a f ressch renoun ; 
He is "a lusty man" clept for the nones; 
But drapers and eek skynners in the toun, 
For swich folk han a special orisoim 

" Stealing is rewarded by a choking death. 
12 forbid. 13 banish. 1^ wide. 

15 parts, portions. 18 proof. 



200 



THOMAS HOCCLEVE 



That troppid ^ is with curses heere and 
there, 69 

And ay schal, til thai paid be for hir gere. 

In dayes olde, whan smal apparaille 
Suffisid unto hy estat or mene, 
Was gret houshold wel staffid of victaille; 
But now housholdes ben ful scleuder and 

lene, 
For al the good that men may repe or gleno, 
Wasted is in outrageous array, 
So that housholdes men nat holde may. 

Pryde hath wel lever here an hungry mawe 
To bedde, than lakke of array outrage; 
He no prys settith be mesures lawe, ^^ 

Ne takith of hym clothe, mete, ne wage: 
Mesnre is out of londe on pylgrymage; 
But I suppose he schal resorte as blyve,^ 
For verray neede wol us therto dryve. 

Ther may no lord tak up no newe gyse 

But that a knave shal the same up take. 

If lordes wolden in this wyse, 

For to do swiche gownes to hem make 

As men did in old tyme, I undertake 89 

The same jet ^ sholde up be take and usid, 

And al this costelew outrage ^ refusid. 

Of Lancastre Duk lohn, whos soule in 

Hevene 
I fully deme, and truste sit ful hye — 
A noble prince I may allegge and nevene,^ 
(Other may no man of hym testifye) — 
I never sy a lord that cowde hym gye ^ 
Bet like his estat; al knyghtly prowesse 
Was to hym girt: O God ! his soule blisse ! 

His garnamentes weren noght ful wyde, 
And yit thei hym becam wonderly wel. i^*^ 
Now wolde God the waast of cloth and 

pryde 
Y-put were in exyl perpetuel 
For the good and profet universel. 
And lordes myght helpe al this, if thei 

wolde 
The olde jet take, and it furth use and 

holde. 

Than myghte silver walke more thikke 
Among the peple than that it doth now; 
Ther wold I fayne that were y-set the 
prikke,"^ — 

2 very quickly. ' fashion. 

5 rio^<^ e guide. ' aim. 



1 sprinkled. ' ' 

* costly extravagance. 



Nat for my self; I schal doo wel ynow, — 
But, sone, for that swiche men as thovv no 
That with the world wrastlen, myght ban 

plente 
Of coyn, where as ye han now scarsetee. 

Now hath thise lordes but litil neede of 

broomes 
To swepe away the filthe out of the street, 
Syn syde sieves of penylees gromes 
Wile it up likke, be it drye or weet. 
O Engelond ! stand upryght on thy feet ! 
So foul a wast in so symple degree 
Bannysshe ! or sore it schal repente the. 



BADBY'S HERESY 8 

(T/ie Regemenf of Princes^ §§ 41-47) 

SOM man, for lak of occupacioun, 
Museth forther thanne his wyt may 
strecche, 
And, at the fendes instigacioun, 

Dampnable errour holdeth, and can not 

flecche ^ 

For no coimseil ne reed, as dide a wrecche 
Not fern ^^ agoo, whiche that of heresye 
Convyct, and brent was un-to ashen 
drye. 

The precious body of oure lorde Jhesu 
In forme of brede, he leved ^^ not at 
al; 
He was in no thing abassht, ne eschu 10 
To seye it was but brede material; 
He seyde, a prestes power was as smal 
As a rakers,^ or swiche an other 

wighte. 
And to mak it, hadde no gretter 
myght. 

My lorde the prince ^^ — God him save 

and blesse! — 
Was at his deedly castigacioun, 
And of his soule hadde grate tendernesse, 
Thristynge sore his savacioun: 
Giete was his pitous lamentacioun. 
Whan that this renegat not wolde 
blynne ^^ 20 

Of the stynkyng errour that he was 
inne. 

8 John Badby was burned at Smithfield in 1410. This 
extract shows the feelings of a temperate, intelligent 
person regarding heresy. 

9 escape. i" long. n believed. 12 street- 
cleaner. M Prince Hal, later Henry V. 1* 



WOMAN'S SUPERIORITY 



20I 



This good lorde highte hym to be sweche 

a mene ^ 
To his fader, oiire lige lorde sovereyne, 
If he renounce wolde his errour clene, 
And come im-to oure good byleve ageyne, 
He schulde of his lif seure ben and cer- 
teyne, 
And sufficiant Jyflode ^ eek scholde he 

have, 
Un-to the day he clad were in his grave. 

Also this nobyl prince and worthy 

knyght — 
God quyte hym his charitable labour! — 
Or any stikke kyndled were or light, 3 1 
The sacrement, oure blissed Saveoure, 
With reverence grete and hye honoure 
He fecche leet, this wrecche to con- 

verte, 
And make oure feithe to synkyn in his 
herte. 

But al for noght, it wolde not bytyde; 
He heeld forth his oppynyoundampiiable, 
And cast oure holy cristen feith a-syde, 
As he that was to the fende acceptable. 
By any outward tokyn resonable, 40 

If he inward hadde any repentaunce, 
That wote he, that of no thing hath 
doutaunce. 

Lat the divines of hym speke and muse 
Where his soule is by-come, or whider 
gon; 
Myn unkonyng of that me schal excuse. 
Of whiche matere knowleche have I non. 
But wolde God, tho Cristes foos echon 
That as he heelde were i-served soo, 
For I am seur that ther ben many 
moo. 



WOMAN'S SUPERIORITY 

( The Regement of Princes, §§ 728-742) 

Ther is also a pees inordinat. 
Whan the gretter obeith to the lesse ; 
And thus, whan to his soget ^ a prelat 
Obeyeth; and whan reson the blynd- 

nesse 
Sueth * of sensualitees madnesse, 

Obeying it: al swich pees is haynous, 
For it is goode pees contrarious. 

1 Promised to be such an intermediary. 
» livelihood. » subject. * Follows. 



Right swich a pees, Adam had with Eve 
Whan that he unto hir desire obeyde; 
He was, per caas,°adradde for to greve; 10 
Wherefor he did as that she to hym seide: 
In that obedience he foleyde,® 

For God hir him bytoke " him to obeye; 

But I adrad am that I thus f er seye ; 

If that this come unto the andience 
Of women, I am sure I shal be shent: ^ 
For that I touche of swich obedience, 
Many a browe sbal on me be bent; 
Thei wolden waite to ben equipollent,® 
And sum what more, unto hir hous- 
bondis, 20 

And sura men seyn swich vsage in this 
lond is. 

And it no wonder is, as semeth me, 
Whan that I me bethought have al 
aboute, 
Thoght that women desiren sovereynte, 
And hir housbondes make to hem loute;i*^ 
Thei made were of a ribbe, it is no doute, 
Which more strong is, and substancial, 
Than sly me of eerthe, and clennerther- 
withal. 

Wherfor it semeth that the worthynesse 
Of women, passyth mennes encer- 
teyne; ^^ 30 

And yit sum nyse ^^ men, of lewdenesse,^^ 
In repref of hem holden ther-a-geyn, 
For crokid was that ribbe; and speke and 
seyne. 
That also crokid is hir curtaisie; 
But agayn that, strongly wil I replie; 

For in the writyng and in the scripture 
Of philosophers, men ma}" see and reede, 
Cercly ^^ shap is most perfite figure, 
BitokenjTig, in gemetrie, onhede;^® 
And crokydnesse a part is, that may lede 
Sum what unto cercle or a cumpas: 41 
What so men seyen, women stonde in 
gode caas. 

For therby shewith it, that crokydnesse 
Streccheth unto the gretter perfeccioun 
Than doth a thing that is of evenesse; 
Of tliis helpith no contradiccioun, 
For it soth is; it is no ficcioun; 

5 perchance. « did folly. ' gave her to him. 
8 undone. 9 of equal power, i" bow. n certainly. 
" silly. IS ignorance. 1* circular. is oneness. 



202 



THOMAS HOCCLEVE 



Every perfit body that man kan nevene, 
Is rouude and crokyd, and noght 
streglite ne evene. 

Bygynne first at Heven, and rounde it is ; 50 
The Sonne and mone, and the sterres also; 
Hed of man, then mouth, and hert, I-wisse, 
Ben alle rounde; and othir ben ther moo 
Than I expresse as now; but or I goo, 

Yit shal I bet wommannes part sustene ; 

So biddeth pees, and that to folwe I 



Now for to speke or touchen of the place 
In which that man and womman f ourmed 
were: 
Almyghty God to woraman^shope swich 
grace, 
That she was formed in the worthier; 60 
In Paradys men wot wel he made here; 
But man ymade was out of Paradys, 
In place of lesse worthinesse and prys. 

And of the maner of formacioun 
Of bothe two herkenth now wel I prey; 
The token or the significacioun 

Of making of Adam, may be no way 
Strecche to so perfyte a goode, I say, 
As dide the formacioun of Eve; 
And that as swithe here I schal it 
preve. 70 

For more have I for hir party e yit: 
Making of Eve tokned the makyng 
Of holy chirche, and sacramentes of it; 
As of the syde of Adam, him slepyng, 
Eve was made, so our lorde Crist deyeng 
Upon the crois, holy chirche of his syde, 
And the sacramentes, made were in 
that tyde. 

From tyme eeke Crist was of xii yere age 

Unto thritty, he with his modir ay 

Was servyng hir with right plesant corage; 

To teche humilite, he tooke the way 8r 

Fro Heven hiddir, and mekenesse verray 

Taught he, the moste partie of his lyf, 

Whil he was with his modir and his 

wyfe; 

For she was bothe two; and syn she had 
So long of hir housbonde the maystrie, 
Women, I trowe, be nat now so mad 
That style to forgo; nay, swich folye. 
What man that can in a woman espye, 



Is worthi shryned be; God save hem 



alle. 



90 



And graunt hir hye corage nat to pallet 

Holy writ seith, * If women sovereynte 
Of hir housbondes have, how that thei 
Unto housbondes contrarious be: ' 

The text is such, I woot wel, but what 

thei ? 1 
That text I undirstonde thus alwey: 
Whan that housbondes hem my stake 

and erre, 
Ageyn that vice wyves maken werre. 

Thogh a woman hir housbonde contrarie 
In his oppynyoun erroneous, 100 

Shul men for that deme hir his adversarie ? 
Straw ! be he never so harrageous,^ 
If he and she shul dwellen in on house, 
Goode is he sujffire ; therby pees may 

spring ; 
Housbondes pees is pesible sufPryng. 



TRIBUTES TO CHAUCER AND 
COWER 

{The Regement of Princes, §§ 267, 280-283, 297- 
30T, 712-716) 

' What schal I calle the ? What is thi 
name ? ' 

* Hoccleve, f adir myn, men clepen me.' 

' Hoccleve, sone ? * * I-wis, f adir, that 
same.' 

• Sone, I have herd, or this, men speke 

of the; 
Thou were aqueynted with Gaucher,^ 

pardee — 
God have his soule best of any wyght ! — 
Sone, I wole holde the that I have 

hyght.'4 

' With hert as tremblyng as the leef of 

aspe,^ 
Fadir, syn ^ ye me rede "^ to do so. 
Of my symple conceyt wole I the claspe 10 
Undo, and lat it at his large go.^ 
Bu^ weylaway ! so is myn herte wo. 
That the honour of Englyssh tonge is 

deed. 
Of which I wont was han ^ consail and 
reed. 

1 though. 2 violent. ' Chaucer. « what I have 
promised. ^ aspen. 6 since. i counsel. 8 let it 
go free. 9 to have. 



TRIBUTES TO CHAUCER AND GOWER 



203 



* O, maister deere, aud fadir reverent ! 
Mi inaister Chaucer, flour of eloquence, 

Mirour of fructuous entendement,^ 
O, uuiversel fadir in science ! 
Alias ! that thou thyn excellent prudence 
In thi bed mortel mightist naght by- 
qwethe; 20 

What eiled Deth ? Alias ! whi wolde he 
sle the ? 

* Deth ! thou didest naght harme sin- 

guleer 
In slaghtere of him; but al this land it 
smertith; 
But nathelees, yit hast thou no power 
His name sle; his hy vertu astertith^ 
Unslay n fro the, which ay us lyfly hertyth,^ 
With bookes of his ornat endytyng, 
That is to al this land enlumynyng. 

* Hast thou nat eeke my maister Gower 

slayn, 
Whos vertu I am insufficient 30 

For to descreyve ? I wrote wel in certayn, 
For to sleeu al this world thou haast 

yment; 
But syn our lorde Crist was obedient 
To the, in feith I can no ferther seye; 
His creatures mosten the obeye.' 

Simple is my goost, and scars my let- 

terure,^ 
Unto your excellence for to write 
Myn inward love, and yit in aventure 
Wyle I me putte, thogh I can but lyte. 
Mi dere maistir — God his soule qnyte! — 
And fadir, Chaucer, fayn wolde han 
me taght; 41 

But I was dul, and lerned lite or naght. 

Alias ! my worthi maister honorable, 
This landes verray tresor and richesse, 
Deth, by thi deth, hath harme irreparable 
Unto us doon; hir vengeable duresse ^ 
Despoiled hath this land of the swet- 
nesse 
Of rethorik; for un-to Tullius 
Was never man so lyk a-monges us. 

Also, who was bier ' in philosophie 50 
To Aristotle, in our tonge, but thow ? 
The steppes of Virgile in poesie 

1 beneficial understanding, intelligence. 

s escapes. 3 always heartens us vigorously. 

* learning. 5 cruelty. « heir. 



Thow filwedisf^ eeke. Men wot wel 

y-now 
That combre-world that the, my mai- 
stir, slow. 
Wold I slayn were! Deth was to hastyf 
To reune on the, and reve the thi lyf . 

Deth hath but sraal consideracioun 
Unto the vertuous, I have espied, 
No more, as shewith the probacioun, 

Than to a vicious maistir losel tried; ^ 60 

A-mong an beep, every man is maistried 

With hire, as wel the porre as is the 

fiche ; 
Lered and lewde eeke standen al 
y-liche. 

She myghte han taried hir vengeance 

awhile. 
Til that sum man had egal to the be. 
Nay, lat be that ! sche knew wel that this 
yle 
May never man forth br^Tige lyk to the, 
And hir office needes do mot she; 

God bad hir so, I truste as for thi 

beste; 69 

O maister, maister, God thi soule reste I 

The firste fyndere of our faire langage. 
Hath seyde in caas semblable, and othir 
moo. 
So hyly wel, that it is my dotage 

For to expresse or touehe any of thoo.® 
Alasse! my fadir fro the worlde is goo — 
My worthi maister Chaucer, hym I 

mene — 
Be thou advoket for hym, hevenes 
queue ! 

As thou wel knowest, o blissid virgyne. 
With lovyng hert and hye devocioun 79 
In thyne honour he wroot ful many a lyne; 
O now thine helpe and thi promocioun, 
To God thi sone make a mocioun. 

How he thi servaunt was, mayden 

Marie, 
And lat his love floure and fructifie. 

Al-though his lyfe be queynt,^^ the resem- 

blaunce 
Of him hath in me so fressh Ij^flynesse, 
That, to putte othir men in remembraunce 

1 didst follow. 

8 one proved a vicious master rascal. 

« tiiose. 10 quenched. 



204 



THOMAS HOCCLEVE 



Of his persone, I have heere his lyknesse 
Do make, to this ende in sothfastnesse, 

That thei that have of him lest thought 
and mynde, 90 

By this peynture may ageyn him fynde.^ 

The ymages that in the chirche been, 
Maken folk thenke on God and on his 
seyntes, 
Whan the ymages thei be-holden and seen ; 
Were 2 oft unsyte^ of hem causith re- 

streyntes 
Of thoughtes gode: whan a thing depeyut 
is, 
Or entailed,* if men take of it heede, 
Thoght of the lyknesse it wil in hem 
brede. 

Yit somme holden oppynyoun, and sey 

That none ymages schuld I-maked be: 100 
Thei erien foule, and goon out of the wey; 

Of trouth have thei scant sensibilite. 

Passe over that : now, blessid Tiinite, 
Uppon my maistres soule, mercy have. 
For him. Lady, eke thi mercy I crave. 



ROUNDEL TO SOMER THE 
CHANCELLOR 

The Sonne, with his hemes of brightnesse, 
To man so kyndly is, and norisshynge, 
That lakkyng it day nere but dirknesse: 
To day he yeveth his enlumynynge. 
And causith al fruyt for to wexe and 

sprynge : 
Now, syn that sonne may so moche availl, 
And moost with Somer is his soiournynge, 
That sesoun bounteous we wole assaill. 

Glad-cheerid Somer, to your governaille 
And grace we submitte al our willynge! 10 
To whom yee f reendly been he may nat faille 
But he shal have his reasonable axynge: 
Aftir your good lust,^ be the sesonynge 
Of our fruytes this laste Mighelmesse, 
The tyme of yeer was of our seed ynnynge,® 
The lak of which is our greet hevynesse. 

We trnste up-on your f reendly gentillesse. 
Ye wole us helpe and been our supportaille. 
Nowyeve us cause ageyn this Cristemesse 

1 Here follows the famous portrait of Chaucer. 

2 Where, whereas. ^ not seeing. * carved. 
6 pleasure. 6 harvest, i.e. payment. 



For to be glad, o lord, whethir our taille ' 20 
Shal soone make us with our shippes saille 
To port salut. If yow list we may synge ; 
And elles, moot us bothe mourn and 

waille, 
Till your favour us sende releevygne. 

We, your servantes, Hoccleve and Baillay, 
Hethe and Offorde, yow beseeche and 

preye, 
Haasteth our hervest as soone as yee may! 
For fere of stormes our wit is aweye; 
Were our seed inned wel we mighten pleye, 
And us desporte and synge and make 

game, 30 

And yit this rowndel shul we synge and 

seye 
In trust of yow and honour of your name. 

Somer, that rypest mannes sustenance 
With ho] sum hete of the sonnes warm- 

nesse, 
Al kynde of man thee holden is to blesse! 

Ay thankid be thy freendly governance, 
And thy f ressh look of mirthe and of glad- 
nesse! 

Somer etc. 

To hevy folk of thee the remembraunee 
Is salve and oynement to hir seeknesse. 
For why we thus shul synge in Christe- 
messe, 40 

Somer etc. 



BALADE TO MY GRACIOUS 
LORD OF YORK 8 



Go, little parafilet, and streight thee 
Unto the noble rootid gentillesse 
Of the myghty Prince of famous honour. 
My gracious Lord of York, to whose 

noblesse 
Me recommande with hertes humblesse, 
As he that have his grace and his favour 
Fownden alway; for which I am dettour 
For him to preye; and so shal my sym- 

plesse 
Hertily do unto my dethes hour. 

Remembre his worthynesse, I charge thee, 10 
How ones at London, desired he, 
Of me that am his servant, and shal ay, 
7 tally. 8 The father of Edward IV. 



THE COMPLAINT 



205 



To have of my balades swich plentee 

As ther weren remeynynge unto me; 

And for nat wole I to his will seyn nay, 

But fulfille it as ferfoorth as I may, 

Be thow an owter ^ of my nycetee,^ 

For my good lordes lust, and game, and play. 

My lord beseeke eek in humble maneere, 
That he nat soujQtre thee for to appeere 20 
In th'onurable sighte, or the presence, 
Of the noble Princesse and lady deere. 
My gracious lady, my good lordes feere,^ 
The mirour of womniauly excellence. 
Thy cheer is naght, ne haast noon eloquence 
To moustre ^ thee before hir yen cleere : 
For myn honour were holsum thyn ab- 
sence.^ 

Yit ful fayn wolde I have a messageer 
To recommande me, with herte enteer, 
To hir benigne and humble wommanhede; 30 
And at the tyme have I noon othir beer 
But thee; and smal am I, for thee, the 

neer,^ 
And if thow do it nat, than shal that dede 
Be left and that nat kepte I, out of drede. 
My lord, nat I, shal have of thee poweer. 
Axe him a licence; upon him crie and 

grede!"^ 

Whan that thow hast thus doon, than af tir- 

ward 
Byseeche thou that worthy Prince Edward, 
That he thee leye apart for what may 

tyde. 
Lest thee beholde my Maister Picard. 40 
I warne thee that it shal be full hard 
For thee and me to halte on any syde, 
But he espie us. — Yit, no force,^ abyde! 
Let hun looke on ; his herte is to me-ward 
So freendly that our shame wole he byde. 

If that I in my wrytynge foleye,^ 
As I do ofte (I can it nat withseye), 
Meetrynge amis i" or speke unfittyngly, 
Or nat by just peys ^^ my sentences weye. 
And nat to the ordre of endytyng obeye, 50 
And my colours ^^ sette ofte sythe awry, — 
With al myn herte wole I buxumly, 
It to amende and to correct, him preye; 
For undir his correccioun stande Y. 

1 utterer. 2 folly. 3 companion, mate. * show. 

5 Thy absence would be good for my honor. 

6 little the nearer. ' call. « no matter, 
9 utter folly. 10 making false metre. 

11 weight, poise. 12 rhetorical decorations. 



Thow foul book, unto my lorde seye also, 
That pryde is unto me so greet a fo, 
That the spectacle forbedith he me,i^ 
And hath y-doon of tyme yore ago; 
And for my sighte blyve ^^ hastith me fro. 
And lakkith that that sholde his coufort 
be, 60 

No wonder thogh thow have no beautee. 
Out upon pryde, causer of my wo! 
My sighte is hurt thurgh hir adversitee. 

Now ende I thus. The holy Trinitee, 
And our Lady, the blissid mayden free, 
My lord and lady have in governance! 
And graunte hem joie and by prosperitee, 
Nat to endure oonly two yeer or three, 
But a thousand ! and if any plesance 
Happe mighte, on my poore souffissance, 70 
To his prowesse and hir benignitee, 
My lyves ioie it were, and sustenance! 
Cest tout. 



THE COMPLAINT 

THE PROLOG 

After that hervest inned had his sheves, 
And that the broune season of Myhelmesse 
Was come, and gan the trees robbe of ther 

leves, 
That grene had bene and in lusty fressh- 

nesse. 
And them in-to colowre of yelownesse 
Hadd dyen and doune throwne undar f oote, 
That chaunge sank into myne herte roote. 

For freshely browght it to my remem- 

braunce, 
That stablenes in this worlde is there none ; 
There is no thinge but chaunge and vari- 

aunce; 10 

How welthye a man be, or well begone,^^ 
Endure it shall not; he shall it forgon. 
Deathe under fote shall hym thrist adowne; 
That is every wites conclusyon.i^ 

Whiche for to weyve^"^ is in no mannes 

myght, 
How riche he be, stronge, lusty, freshe, and 

gay. 
And in the ende of Novembar, upon a 

nygbt, 

13 Will not let me wear spectacles. Hoccleve mentions 
them again in his poem To Sir John Oldcastle, 1. 417. 

14 swiftly. 15 situated, i* man's end. 1^ avoid. 



2o6 



THOMAS HOCCLEVE 



Syghenge sore as I in my bed lay, 

For this and othar thowghts, whiche many 

a day 
Before I toke, sleape came none in myne 

eye, 20 

So vexyd me the thowghtfull maladye. 

I see well, sythen I with sycknes^ last 
Was scourged, elowdy hath bene the fa- 

vonre 
That shone on me full bright in tymes past; 
The Sonne abatid and the derke showre 
Hildyd^ dowue right on me; and in langour 
He made me swyme, so that my wite 
To lyve no lust hadd, ne no delyte. 

The grefe abowte my harte so sore swal,^ 
And bolned ^ ever to and to so sore, 30 

That nedes oute I rauste there-with-all; 
I thowght I nolde it kepe cloos no more, 
Ne lett it in me for to olde and hore;^ 
And for to preve I cam of a woman, 
I brast oute on the morowe and thus began. 

(Here endythe my prologe and folowythe my 
complaynt.) 

Allmyghty God as lykethe his goodnes, 
Visytethe folks alday as men may se. 
With lose of good and bodily sikenese, 
And amonge othar he forgat not me; 
Witnes upon ^ the wyld infirmytie ^ 40 

Which that I had, as many a man well 

knewe. 
And whiche me owt of my selfe cast and 

threw. 

It was so knowen to the people and kouthe, 
That cownselP was it none, ne none be 

myghte. 
How it with me stode was in every mans 

mowthe. 
And that full sore my fryndes affrighte. 
They for myne helthe pilgrimages highte,^ 
And sowght them, some on hors and some 

on foote, — 
God yelde it them — to geten me my bote.i^ 

But althowghe the substaunce of my mem- 
ory 50 
Wente to pley as for a certayne space. 
Yet the Lorde of Vertew, the Kynge of 
Glory, 

1 The insanity spoken of below. 2 Poured, 

s swelled. * raged. s grow old and hoary. 

6 As is shown by. ^ His insane fit. 

8 secret. ^ ^ promised. i" cure. 



Of his highe myght and his benynge 

grace, 
Made it to returne into the place 
Whennes it cam ; whiche at all-hallwe- 

messe. 
Was five yeere, neyther more ne lesse. 

And evere sythen — thanked be God owr 

Lord 
Of his good reconsiliacion, — 
My wyt and I have bene of such accorde 
As we were or ^^ the alteracion 60 

Of it was. But by my savacion, 
Sith that tyme have I be sore sett on fire, 
And lyved in great torment and martire; 

For thowgh that my wit were home come 

agayne, 
Men wolde it not so miderstond or take; 
With me to deale hadden they dysdayne; 
A ryotows person I was and forsake; 
Myn olde frindshipe was all ovarshake; 
No wyte withe me lyst make daliance; 
The worlde me made a straunge con- 

tinance.i^ 70 



HOCCLEVE'S GAY YOUTH 

{La Male Regie ^ §§ 16-26) 

The outward signe of Bachus and his lure, 
That at his dore hangith day by day 
Excitith folk to taaste of his moisture 
So often that man can nat wel seyen nay. 
For me, I seye I was encljTied ay 
Withouten daunger^^ thidir for to hye me. 
But if swich charge upon my bake lay, 
That I moot it forbere as for a tyme; 

Or but I were nakidly bystad 1* 
By force of the penylees maladie, 10 

For thanne in herte kowde I nat be glad, 
Ne lust had noon to Bachus hows to hie. 
Fy ! Lak of coyn departith conpaignie; 
And hevy purs, with herte liberal, 
Qwenchith the thirsty hete of hertes drie, 
Wher chynchyi^ herte hath therof but 
smal. 

I dar nat telle how that the fresshe repeir 
Of Venus femel lusty children deere, 
That so goodly, so shaply were, and feir, 
And so pleasant of port and of maneere, 20 



11 before. 12 countenance. 

14 in great straits. is stingy 



IS hesitation. 



HOCCLEVE'S GAY YOUTH 



207 



And feede cowden al a world with cheere, 
And of atyr passyngly wel byseye,i 
At Poules Heed me maden ofte appeere, 
To talks of mirthe and to disporte and 
pleye. 

Ther was sweet wyn ynow thurghout the 

hous, 
And waf res thikke, for this conpaignie 
That I spak of been sumwhat likerous,^ 
Where as they mowe a draght of wyn espie, 
Sweete and in wirkynge hoot for the mais- 

trie^ 
To warme a stomak with, thereof they 

dranke. 30 

To sufPre hem paie had been no courtesie : 
That charge 1 tooke to wynne love and 

thanke. 

Of loves aart yit touchid I no deed; 
I cowde nat and eek it was no neede: 
Had I a kus I was content ful weel, 
Bettre than I wolde han be with the deede: 
Ther-on can I but smal, it is no dreede:^ 
Whan that men speke of it in my presence: 
For shame I wexe as reed as is the gleede.^ 
Now wole I tome ageyn to my sentence. 40 

Of him that hauntith taverne of custume, 

At shorte wordes the profyt is this: 

In double wyse his bagge it shal consume, 

And make his tonge speke of folk amis; 

For in the cuppe seelden fownden is 

That any wight his neigheburgh commend- 

ith. 
Beholde and see what avantage is his, 
That God, his freend, and eek himself, 

offendith. 

But con avauntage in this cas I have: 
I was so ferd with any man to fighte, 50 
Cloos kept I me; no man durst I deprave ® 
But rownyngly,"^ I spak no thyng on highte. 



1 provided. 

* excellent, sovereign. 

6 speak slightingly of. 



2 fond of good fare. 
* doubt. 6 glowing coal. 
'> whispering. 



And yit my wil was good, if that I mighte, 
For lettynge of my manly cowardyse, 
That ay of strookes impressid the wighte,^ 
So that I durste medlen in no wyse. 

Wher was a gretter maister eek than y, 
Or bet aqweyntid at Westmynstre yate, 
Among the taverneres namely, 
And cookes whan I cam eerly or late ? 60 
I pynchid ^ nat at hem in myn acatCj^^^ 
Rut paied hem as that they axe wolde; 
Wherfore I was the welcomere algate,^^ 
And for a verray gentil man y-holde. 

And if it happid on the someres day 
That I thus at the taverne hadde be. 
Whan I departe sholde and go my way 
Hoom to the privee seel,^- so wowed me 
Heete and unlust and superfluitee 69 

To walke unto the brigge and take a 

boot. 
That nat durste I contrarie hem all three. 
But did as that they stired me, God woot. 

And in the wyntir, for the way was deep, 

Unto the brigge I dressid me also. 

And ther the bootmen took upon me 

keep,i3 
For they my riot^^ kneewen fern ago: 
With hem was I i-tugged to and fro. 
So wel was him that I with wolde fare; 
For riot paieth largely everemo; 
He styntith nevere til his purs be bare. 80 

Othir than ' maistir ' callid was I nevere, 
Among this meynee,i^in myn audience. 
Me tlioghte I was y-maad a man for evere: 
So tikelid me that nyce reverence. 
That it me made larger of despense 
Than that I thoght han been o flaterie! 
The guyse of thy traiterous diligence 
Is, folk to mescheef haasten and to hie. 

8 Which impressed [on me] the weight of strokes. 

9 quibble as to price. 10 purchasing. 

11 always. 12 The oflSce of the Privy Seal. 

13 paid attention to me. , 1* extravagance. 
15 servile throng. 



JOHN LYDGATE 



THE CHURL AND THE BIRDi 

Problemys of olde likenesse and figures, 
Whiche proved been fructuous of seiitence,^ 
And hath auctorite grownded in scriptures, 
By reseniblaunces of nobille apparence, 
Withe moralites concluding of prudence, 
Like as the Bibylle rehersithe by writing, 
How trees somtyme chase ^ hemself a kyng. 

First in their choise thay named the olive, 
To reigne amonge hem, Judicum^ dothe ex- 

presse, 
But he hym dide excuse blyve,^ lo 

He myght not forsake his fatnesse, 
Ner the figge tree his amorows swettnes, 
Ner the vyne his holsom fressh tarage,^ 
Whiche yeveth comforte to al maner age. 

And semlably "^ poetis laureate. 
By dyrke parables ful convenient, 
Feyne that birddis and bests of estate, 
As royalle egles and lyons be assent. 
Sent out writtes to olde ^ a parliament, 
And made decres brefly for to saye, 20 

Some for to have lordshippe and some for 
obeye. 

Egles in the heyre*^ highest to take hir 

flighte. 
Power of lyouns on the grounde is sens, 
Cedre among trees highest of sight, 
And the laurealle of nature is ay grene; 
Of flowres also Flora goddes and queue; 
Thus of al thing ther beene diversites, 
Some of estate and some of lowe degres. 

Poetes writin wonderfulle liknesses. 
And under covert kepe hemself ful closse; 
They take bestis and fowles to witnesse, 31 
Of whos feyninges fabilles first arosse. 
And here I cast unto my purpose, 

1 A favorite Old-French tale, perhaps of oriental 
origin. See J. O. Halliwell's remarks in his edition of 
Lydgate's Minor Poems, Percy So., vol. n, p. 179, 
whence our text. 

2 fruitful in teaching. 3 chose. * Judges, ix. ^ at 
once. 6 flavor. 1 similarly. 8 hold. ^ air. 



Out of the Frenssh a tale to translate, 
Whiche in a paunflet I redde and saw but 
late. 

This tale whiche I make of mencioun, 
In gros relierseth playnly to declare, 
Thre proverbis payed for raunsoun. 
Of a faire birdde that was take out of a 

snare, 
Wondir desirous to scape out of hir care, 40 
Of my autour folwyng the processe, 
So as it fel, in order I shal expresse. 

Whilom ther was in a smal village, 
As myn autor makethe rehersayle, 
A chorle ^"^ whiche hadde lust and a grete 

corage,^^ 
Within hymself be diligent travayle "^ 
To array his gardeyn withe notable appar- 

ayle, 
Of lengthe and brede yeliche ^^ square and 

longe, 
Hegged and dyked to make it sure and 

strong. 49 

AUe the aleis were made playne with sond. 
The benches turned with newe turvis 

grene, 
Sote herbers,!^ withe condite ^^ at the honde, 
That wellid up agayne the sonne shene, 
Lyke silver stremes as any cristale clene. 
The burbly wawes in up boyling, 
Rounde as byralle ther beamys out shyny nge. 

Amyddis the gardeyn stode a fressh lawrer,^^ 
Theron a bird syngyng bothe day and 

nyghte. 
With shynnyng fedres brightar than the 

golde weere,^^ 
Whiche with hir song made hevy hertes 

lighte, 60 

That to beholde it was an hevenly sighte, 
How toward evyn and in the daw[e]nyng, 
She ded her payne most amourously to 

synge. 

10 churl, boor, n inclination. 12 alike. ^^ Sweet 
arbors. 1* fountain. i* laurel. ^^ wire. 



THE CHURL AND THE BIRD 



209 



Esperus enforced hir corage,^ 

Toward evyn whan Phebus gan to west, 

Amid 2 the braunches to hir avauntage 

To syng hir coraplyn^ and than go to rest; 

And at the rysing of the quene Alcest,* 

To synge agayne, as was hir due, 

Erly on morowe the day sterre to salue. 70 

It was a verray hevenl}'^ melodye, 

Evyne and morowe to here the byrddis 

souge, 
And the soote sugred armonye, 
Of uncouthe^ warblys and tunys drawen on 

longe, 
That al the gardeyne of the noyse rong, 
Til on a morwe, whan Ty tan shone f ul clere, 
The birdd was trapped and kaute with a 

pantere.^ 

The chorle was gladde that he this birdde 

hadde take, 
Mery of chere, of looke, and of visage; 
And in al haste he cast for to make, 80 

Within his house a pratie litelle cage. 
And with hir songe to rejoise his corage, 
Til at the last the sely bii dde abrayed,' 
And sobirly unto the chorle she sayde. 

*I am now take and stand undir daunger,^ 

Holde straite that I may not fle. 

Adieu, my songe and alle notes clere, 

Now that I have lost my liberte; 

Now am I thralle that somtyme was fre, 

And trust while I stand in distresse, 90 

I canne not synge ner make gladnesse. 

*And thowe my cage forged were with 

golde, 
And the pynacles of birrale and cristale, 
I remembre a proverd said of olde, 
" Who lesethe his fredam, in faith ! he 

losethall;" 
For I hadd levyr upon a braunche smale, 
Mekely to singe amonge the wodes grene, 
Than in a cage of silver brighte and shene. 

* Songe and prison have noon accordaunce ; 
Trowest thou I woUe syng in prisoun ? 100 

1 Hesperus prompted her. 

2 Halliwell reads And, but the emendation seems to 
be required by the sense. 

3 compline, last service of the day. 

* Alcestes is here a coustellation of the dawn. In 
Chaucer's Legend of Good Women (Prol. A 507) she is 
the daisy (day's eye). Cf. Schick's note to 1. 70 of The 
Temple of Gins. 

fi rare. ^ large bird-net. 1 started up. 8 control. 



Song procedethe of joy and of pleasaunce, 
And prison causethe dethe and destruc- 

cioun; 
Ryngyng of fe tires make the no mery 

sounde. 
Or how shuld he be gladde or jocounde 
Agayne his wylle, that ligthe in chaynes 

bounde ? 

* What avaylethe it a lyon to be kyng 

Of bestes, alle shette in a towre of stone ? 
Or an egle, undir strayte kepying, 
Called also king of fowles everichone ? 
Fy on lords liippe whan liberte is gone! no 
Answere herto and lat it not asterte,^ 
Who svugeth merily that syugeth not of 
herte ? 

* But if thou wilte rejoise of my syngyng, 
Lat me go flye free from al dauuger; 
And every day in the mornyng, 

I shall repay re unto thi lawrer, 
And freshh' syng withe lusty notes clere, 
Undir thy chambire or afore thyne halle, 
Every season whane thou list me calle. 

' To be shett up and pynned undir drede, 
No thing accordethe unto my nature, 121 
Thouhe I were fedde with mylke and 

wastelbrede,i° 
And soote cruddes ^^browte unto my pasture, 
Yet had I lever to do my besy cure, 
Herly in the morowe to shrapyn '^ in the 

vale, 
To fynde my dyner amonge the wormes 

smale. 

* The laborare is gladdare at his ploughe, 
Herly on morne to fede hym withe bacon, 
Than som man is that hathe tresoure 

i-noughe, 
And of alle deyntes plente and foison,^^ 130 
And no fredom with his possessioun 
To go at large, but as here to stake ^* 
To passe his boundis but if he leve take. 

'Take this aunswere for full conclusion — 
To synge in prison thou shalt me not con- 

strayne, 
Till I have fredom in wodis up and downe. 
To flien at large on boughes rouhe ^^ and 

playne ; 

9 escape, be avoided. 10 xhe finest sort of bread. 
11 sweet curds. 12 scrape. i^ abundance. 

^ a bear bound to a stake. » rough. 



2IO 



JOHN LYDGATE 



And of resoun thou shuldest not disdayne, 
Of my desire laugh and have game ; ^ 
But who is a chorle wolde eche a ^ man were 
the 



* Wele,' quod the chorle, * sy th it will not be 
That 1 desire as be ^ thy talkyng, 
Magry "* thi will thou shalt chese on of thre : ° 
Withinne a cage nierily to synge, 

Or to the kechen I shal thy body bringe, 
PuUe thi fedris that bene so bright and 

clere, 
And aftir the rooste and baake to my 

dyner.' 

*Than,' quod the birdde, 'to reson saye 

not nay, 
Towching my songe a f ulle aunswer thou 

haste; 
And when my fedres pulled been away, 150 
Yf I be rosted, outher bake in paste, 
Thou shalt of me have a fulle smal repaste; 
But yf thou wilt werke by my counseille, 
Thou mayest by me have passing gret 

availe.® 

* Yf thou wil unto my rede assent, 
And suffre me go frely fro prisoun, 
Without rauusoun or ony other rent, 

I shal the yeve a notable gret gwerdoun, 
Thre grete wysdoms according to resoun, 
More of valewe, take hede what I do 
profre, 160 

Thane all the golde that is shet in thi cofre. 

' Trust me wele I shal the not disceyve.' 

* Wele,' quod the chorle, ' telle oon, anone 

let se.' 

* Nay,' quod the byrdde, ' thou must afore 

conceyve. 
Who that shal teche must of reason go free ; 
It sittethe a maister to have his liberte, 
And at large to teche his lesson. 
Have me not suspecte, I mene no tresone.' 

* Well,' quod the chorle, * I holde me con- 

tent, 
I trust the promys which thou hast made 

to me.' 170 

The birdde fley forthe, the chorle was of 

assent; 

1 Nor laugh to scorn my desire. 2 every. 

3 " That which I desire concerning." * Maugre. 

5 Why " three " ? Possibly " ihre " should be " the,^' 
these. But we have fh7-ee returns offered by the bird 
presently. e use. 



And toke hir flight upon the lawreer tre. 
Than thought she thus, * Now I stand fre. 
With snares panters I cast "^ not al my 

lyve, 
Ner withe no lyme-twygges ony more to 

stryve. 

* He is a fole that scaped is daunger. 

And broken his fedres ^ and fled is fro 

prisoim. 
For to resorte,^ for brent childe dredethe 

fire. 
Eche a man beware of wisdom and resoun. 
Of sugre strowed that hydethe fals poyson; 
Ther is no venome so parlious in sharp- 

nes, 181 

As whan it hathe of treacle ^^ a lyknes. 

' Who dredeth no parelle,!^ in parelle he 

shal falle; 
Smothe waters ben ofte sithes depe; 
The quayle-pype can moste falsly calle, 
Till the quayle undir the net doth crepe; 
A blerj^-eed fowler trust not though he wepe; 
Eschewe his thombe, of weping take noon 

hede. 
That smale birddes can nype be the hede. 

* And now that I such daungers am escaped, 
I wil be ware and afore provide, 191 
That of no fowler I wil no more be japed,^^ 
From their lyme-twygges I will flee fer 

asyde ; 
Where perell is, gret perelle is to abyde. — 
Come nere, thou chorle, take hede to my 

speeche. 
Of thre wisdomes that I shal the teche. 

* Yeve not of wisdom to hasty credence 
To every tale nor to eche tyding; 

But considre of resoun and prudence. 
Among many talis is many gret lesyng; 1^200 
Hasty credence hathe caused gret hyndring; 
Reporte of talis, and tydinges broute up 

newe, 
Makethe many a man to beholde untrewe. 

* For oon partie take this for thy raunsoun : 
Lerne the secuud growuded in scripture. 
Desire thou nott be no condicioun 
Thing which is impossible to recure;^^ 
Wordly desires stand alle in adventure, 

7 reckon. 8 For "fetres," fetters? » return. 
10 medicinal syiup. n peril. " deceived. " lie. 
1* obtain. 



THE CHURL AND THE BIRD 



211 



And who desire to clymbe highe on lofte, 
j By soden torue felethe ofte his fal unsofte. 

* The thirdde is this ; beware bothe even 

and morowe, 211 

1 Forgete it not, but lerne this of me: 
' For tresoure loste maketh never to gret 
j sorowe, 

I Which 1 in no wise may not recovered be ; 
' For who takthe sorowe for losse in that 
degre, 
Reknethe first his losse and aftir rekyn his 

peyne, 
And of oon sorowe makethe he sorowes 
tweyne.' 

Aftir this lessone the birdde begane a songe, 
Of hir escape gretly rejoysing, 
And she remembryng also the wronge 220 
Don by the chorle first at hir takynge, 
Of hir affray and hir enprisonyng; 
Gladde that she was at large and out of 

drede, 
Said unto hym, hovyng ^ above his hedde : 

*Thou were,' quod she, *a very naturall 

fole 
To suffre me departe of thy lewdnesse; ^ 
Thou owghtest oft to complayne and make 

dole. 
And in thyne herte to have gret hevynesse, 
That thou hast loste so passing gret riehesse, 
Whiche myglit suffice, by vale we in rek- 

enyng, 230 

To pay the raunsoum of a myghty kynge. 

'There is a stone whiche called is jagounce,^ 
Of olde engendered withinne myue en- 
^ trayle, 

Whiche of fyne golde peyssethe^ a gret 

unce,^ 
Cytryne "^ of colour, lyke garnettes of en- 

tayle,^ 
Which maketh men victorious in batayle, 
And so ^ ever here on hym this stone 
Is fully assured agayne his mortal foone. 

* Who hathe this stone in possession, 
Shal snffre no povert, ner no indigence, 240 
But of al tresour have plente and foysoun. 
And every man shal do hym reverence; 
And no ennemy shal do hym offence. 

1 The antecedent of which is tresoure. 2 poising. 

* ignorance. ■• a kind of gem. s weighs, s ounce. 
^ yellow. 8 cut. » " Who " is perhaps lost before so. 



But from thyne handis now that I am 

gone, 
Pleyne if thou wilt, for thi parte is none. 

*It causeth love, it makethe men more 

gracious 
And favorable in every mannys sighte; 
It makethe accorde betwne folke envyous, 
Comforteth sorowfull, and maketh heavy 

herttes lighte; 
Lyke topasion 1*^ of colours sonnyssh bright; 
I am a foole to telle al at ones, 251 

Or to teche a chorle the price of precious 

stones. 

' Men shuld not put a precious margarite,^i 
As rubies, saphires, or othir stones hynde,^^ 
Emeraudes ner^^ rounde perles whight, 
To-fore rude swyne that loven d[r]affe^* 

of kynde; 
For a sowe delightethe, as I fynde, 
More in foule draffe hir pigges for to glade, 
That in al the perre ^^ that comethe out of 

Garnade.^^ 

* Eche thing draueth unto his semlable,!"^ 260 
Fysshes on the see, bestes on the stronde. 
The eyere for fowUis of nature is conven- 

able. 
To a ploughe man to tille the lande. 
And a chorle a mokeforke^^ in his hande; 
I lese my tyme ony more to tarye. 
To telle a bowen ^^ of the lapidarye.^*' 

'That thou haddest, thou gettest never 

agayne; 
Thi lym-twigges and panters I defye: 
To lete me go thou ware foule over sayne,^! 
To lese thi riehesse only of foly. 270 

I am now fre to syng, and to flye 
Where that me lust, and he is a foole at alle,^^ 
That gothe at large and makethe himselff 

thralle. 

*To here a wisdom thyn eres been half 

deef, 
Lyke an asse that listithe on an harppe; 
Thou mayst go pype in an yve-leffe; 
Better is to me to synge on thornes sharppe. 
Than in a cage withe a chorle to carppe: ^^ 

10 topaz. 11 gem. 12 refined, gentle. i' nor. 

1* swill. 15 jewelry. 16 Granada? i^ Birds 
of a feather flock together. is dungfork. is For 
" bower," i.e. boor ? Cf. " boueer " below 20 treatise 
on gems. 21 it was a great oversight in thee. 22 in 
all ways. 23 converse, wrangle. 



212 



JOHN LYDGATE 



For it was saide of folkes yore a gone, 

A cborles chorle is ofte wo begone.' 280 

The chorle felt his hert parte in twayne, 
For verray sorowe, and a-sondire ryve; 

* Alias ! ' quod he, * I may wele wepe and 

play lie, 
As a wreche never leke ^ to thryve, 
But for to endure in poverte al my live; 
For of foly and of wilfulnesse, 
I have now lost al holy my ricliesse. 

' I was a lorde, I crye out of ^ fortune, 
And hadde gret tresoure late in my kep- 

i»g, 
Whiche myghte have made me long to con- 

tynue, 290 

Withe that stone to have lyved leke a 

kyng ; 
Yf that I hadde sett it in a ryng, 
Borne it on me, I hadde had goode i-nowe, 
And never more have neded to goon to the 

ploughe.' 

Whan the birdde sawe the chorle thus 

morne. 
And houghe ^ that he was hevy of his chere, 
She toke hir flighte and gayn ^ a-gayne re- 

torne 
Towards hy m, and said as ye shal here ; — 
' O dul chorle wysdoms for to lere ! 
That I the taughte, al is lef te behynde, 300 
Kaked away and clene out of mynde. 

* Taughte 1 the not thies wisdam in sen- 

tence, — 
To every tale broughte to the of newe 
Not hastily to yeve therto credence 
Into tyme thou knew that it were trewe ? 
Al is not golde that shynethe goldisshe hewe, 
Nor stonys al by nature, as I fynde. 
Be not saphires that shewethe colour ynde.^ 

* In this doctryne I loste my laboure, 309 
To teche the suche proverbis of substaunce; 
Now mayst thou se thyn owne blynde 

errour, o 

For al my body peyssed ^ in balaunce, 
Weiethe not an unce; rude is thi remem- 

braunce, 
I to have more payee '^ clos in myne en- 

trayle, 
Than al my body set for the countirvayle ! 



1 like. 
5 blue. 



2 upon. 
6 weighed. 



8 how. * did. 

7 Fieixch poids, weight. 



' Al my bodye weyeth not an unce, 
Hough myght I than have in me a stone, 
That peyssith more, as dothe a gret jag- 
ounce ? 
Thy brayne is dul, thy witte is almoste gone; 
Of thre wisdoms thou hast forgeten oon, 320 
Thou shuldest not aftir my sentence 
To every tale yeve hastily credence. 



be 



bothe 



and 



*I badde also 
morowe. 
For thing lost of soden aventure; 
Thou shuld not make to mekelle sorowe. 
Whan tliou seest thou mayst not it recure; ^ 
Here thou fay lest which doste thi busy cure 
In thi snare to kache me agayne; 
Thou art a fole, thi labour is in vayne. 

' In the thirdde also thou doste rave: 330 
I badde thou shuldest, in no maner wyse, 
Coveyte thing whiche thou maist not have, 
In whiche thou hast forgoten myne em- 

pryse; ^ 
That I may sey playnly to devise. 
Thou hast of madnesse forgoten al thre 
Notable wysdoms that I taught the. 

' It ware but foly withe the more to carpe, '^^ 
Or to preche of wysdoms more or lasse; 
I holde hym madde that bryngeth forth his 

harppe, 
Therone to teche a rude for-dulle ^^ asse; 340 
And madde is he that syngeth a fole a masse ; 
And he is moste madde that dothe his besy- 

nesse, 
To teche a chorle termys of gentilnesse. 

* And semlably in Apprille and in May, 
Whan gentille birddes most maketh melodie, 
The cokkowe syng can than but oon lay, 
In othir tymes she hathe no fantasye; 
Thus every thing, as clerks specifye. 
As frute and trees, and folke of every de- 
gre, ^ 349 

Fro whens they come thai take a tarage.^ 

' The vintere tretethe of his holsom wynes. 
Of gentille frute bostethe the gardener, 
The fyssher casteth his hokes and his lynes 
To kache fyssh in every fressh rever. 
Of tilthe of lande tretethe the boueer,^^ 
The chorle delitethe to speke of rybaudye,^* 
The hunter also to speke of venerye. 

8 recover. 9 undertaking. i" talk. 

11 very dull. ^ flavor. i3 farmer, i* coarse jests. 



THE TEMPLE OF GLAS 



213 



* Al oon to the a ffaucion and a kyghte/ 
As goode an howle as a popmgaye,^ 359 
A downghille doke as deynte as a snyghte; ^ 
Who servethe a chorle hathe many a ear- 
ful day. 
Adewe! sir chorle, farwele! I flye my way. 
O caste ^ me never aftir my lyf e endmriug 
A-fore a chorle any more to syng.* 

Ye folke that shal here this fable, see or 

rede, 
Now forged talis I comisaille you to fle, 
For losse of goode takethe not to gret hede, 
Bethe not malicious for noon adversite, 
Coveitethe no thing that may not be; 369 
And remembre, wherever that ye goone, 
A chorles chorle is woo begone. 

Unto purpos this proverd is full ryfc, 
Rade and reported by olde remembraunce. 
A childes birrde and a knavis wyfe 
Have often siethe ^ gret sorowe and mys- 

chaunce. 
Who hathe fredom hathe al suffisannce; 
Bettir is fredom withe litelle in gladnesse, 
Than to be thralle withe al worldly rich- 



Go, gentille quayer! ^ and recommaunde me 
Unto my maister with humble eff action; 
Beseke hym lowly, of mercy and pite, 381 
Of this rude makyng to have compassion ; 
And as touching the translacioun 
Oute of Frenshe, hough ever the Englisshe 

be, 
Al thing is saide undir correctioun, 
With supportacion of your benignite. 



THE TEMPLE OF GLAS ' 

For thought, constreint, and grevous hevi- 

nes, 
For pensifhede, and for heigh distres, 
To bed I went now this othir nyght, 
Whan that Lucina with hir pale light 
Was joyned last with Phebus in Aquarie, 
Amyd Decembre, when of Januarie 

1 falcon aud a kite. 2 parrot. 3 snite i.e.plover or 
snipe. * arrange, plan. ^ time. 6 quire, i.e. book. 

7 From Schick's ed. for the Early English Text So- 
ciety, London, 1891, with a few typographical changes. 
This poem is an allegorical " love vision," a kind of writ- 
ing brought anew into fashion by the French poets of 
the fourteenth century, and much used by Chaucer 
and others. Lydgate's poem is of course inspired by 
Chaucer's House oj Fame. 



Ther be kalendes of the nwe yere. 
And derk Diane, ihorned, nothing clere, 
Had hid hir bemys undir a my sty cloude: 
Within my bed for sore ^ I gan me shroude, lo 
Al desolate for constreint of my wo, 
The longe nyght waloing to and fro. 
Til atte last, er I gan taken kepe,^ 
Me did oppresse a sodein dedeli slepe, 
With-in the which methoughte that 1 was 
Ravysshid in spirit in a temple of glas — 
I nyste i° how, ful fer in wildirnes — 
That fo undid was, as bi liklyuesse. 
Not opon stele, but on a craggy roche, 
Like ise ifrore.^i And as I did approche, 20 
Again the sonne that shone, me thought, so 

clere 
As eny crista!, and ever nere and nere 
As I gan neigh this grisli, dredful place, 
I wex astonyed: the light so in my face 
Bigan to smyte, so persing ever in one 
On evere part, where that I gan gone, 
That I ne myght nothing, as I would, 
Abouten me considre and bihold 
The wondre estres,^^ for brightness of the 

Bonne; 
Til atte last certein skyes donne,^^ 30 

With wind ichaced, have her cours iwent 
To-fore the stremes of Titan and iblent,^^ 
So that I myght, with-in and with-oute, 
Where so I walk, biholden me aboute. 
For to report the fasoun and manere 
Of al this place, that was circulere 
In compaswise, round bentaile ^^ wrought. 
And whan that I hade long gone and sought, 
I fond a wiket, and entrid in as fast 
Into the temple, and myn eighen cast 40 
On evere side, now lowe and eft ^^ aloft. 
And right anone, as I gan walken soft, 
If I the soth aright reporte shal, 
I saughe depeynt cpon evere wal. 
From est to west, ful many a faire image 
Of sondri lovers, lich as thei were of age 
I-sette in ordre, aftir thei were trwe. 
With lifli colours wondir fressh of hwe. 
And, as me thought, I saughe somme sit 

and stonde. 
And some kneling with billis in hir honde, 50 
And some with compleint, woful and pit- 

ous. 
With doleful chere to pntten to Venus, 
So as she sate fleting in the se, 
Upon hire wo forto have pite. 

8 sorrow. 9 heed. i" did not know. "frozen. 
12 interior rooms. i3 dark clouds. 1^ mingled 

(so as to produce shade). is upper part of a wall; 

exact meauing obscure. is again. 



214 



JOHN LYDGATE 



And first of al Isaugh there of Cartage 
Dido the queue, so goodli of visage, 
That gall eompleiii hir adventure and caas, 
How she deceyved was of Eneas, 
For al his hestis and his othis sworne. 
And said : ' alas, that ever she was borne,' 60 
Whan that she saugh that ded she moste be. 
And next I saugh the compleint of Medee, 
Hou that she wes falsed of lason. 

And nygh bi Venus saugh I sit Addoun, 
And al the mauer, how the bore liiin slough, 
For whom she wepte and hade pein inoughe. 

There saugh I also, how Penalope, 
For she so long hir lord ne ruyghte se, 
Ful ofte wex of colour pale and grene. 

And aldernext ^ was the fresshe queue, 70 
I mene Alceste, the noble trwe wyfe. 
And for Admete hou sho lost hir life, 
And for hir trouth, if I shal not lie, 
Hou she was turnyd to a daiesie. 

There was also Grisildis innocence. 
And al hir niekenes, and hir pacience. 
There was eke Isaude — and meni a nothir 

mo — 
And al the turment, and al the cruel wo, 
That she hade for Tristram al hir live. 
And hou that Tesbie her herte dide rife 80 
With thilke swerd of him Piramus; 
And al the maner, hou that Theseus 
The Minatawre slow amyd the hous 
That was f or-wrynkked^ bi craft of Dedalus, 
W^hen that he was in prison shette in Crete. 

And hou that Phillis felt of loves hete 
The grete fire of Demophon, alas, 
And for his falshed and for his trespas 
Upon the walles depeint men rayghte se, 
How she was honged upon a filbert tre. 90 

And mani a stori, mor then I rekin can, 
AYere in the terapil, and how that Paris wan 
The faire Heleyne, the lusti fresshe queue. 
And hou Achilles was for Policene 
I-slain unwarli within Troie toune: 
Al this sawe I, walkynge up and doun. 
Ther sawe I writen eke the hole tale, 
Hou Philomene into a nyghtyngale 
Itnrned was, and Progne unto a swalow; 
And how the Sabyns in hir maner halowe 100 
The fest of Lucresse yit in Rome toune. 

There saugh I also the sorow of Pala- 
moun. 
That he in prison felt, and al the smert, 
And how that he, thurugh unto his hert. 
Was hurt unwarli thurugh casting of aneyghe 
Of faire fressh, the yunge Emelie, 



1 next of all. 



* built as a labyrinth. 



And al the strife bitwene him and his 

brothir. 
And hou that one faught eke with that othir 
With-in the grove, til thei bi Theseus 
Acordid were, as Chaucer tellith us. '^^^ 

And forthirmore, as I gan bihold, 
I sawgh how Phebus with an arow of gold 
I-woundid was, thurugh oute in his side, 
Onli bi envie of the god Cupide, 
And hou that Daphne unto a laurer tre 
Iturned was, when she dide fie; 

And hou that love gan to chaunge his 
cope^ 
Oonli for love of the faire Europe, 
And into a bole, when he did hir sue,^ xig 
List of his godhode his fourme to transmwe; 
And hou that he bi transmutacioun 
The shap gan take of Amphitrioun 
For hir, Almen, so passing of beaute; 
So was he hurt, for al his deite. 
With loves dart, and myght it not ascape. 

There saugh I also hou that Mars was 
take 
Of Vulcanus, and with Venus found, 
And with the eheynes invisible bound. 

Ther was also al the poesie 
Of him. Mercuric and Philologye,^ 130 

And hou that she, for hir sapience, 
Iweddit was to god of eloqence. 
And hou the Musis lowli did obeie. 
High into heven this ladi to convei. 
And with hir song hou she was magnified 
With lubiter to bein istellified. 

And uppermore depeint men myghte se, 
How with hir ring, goodli Canace 
Of evere foule the ledne and the song 139 
Coud undirstond, as she welk hem among; 
And hou hir brothir so oft holpen was 
In his rnyschefe ^ bi the stede of bras. 

And for ther more in the tempil were 
Ful mani a thousand of lovers, here and 

there, 
In sondri wise redi to complein 
Unto the goddes, of hir wo and pein, 
Hou thei were hindrid, some for envie, 
And hou the serpent of fals jelousie 
Ful many a lover hath iput o bak,' 
And causeles on hem ilaid a lak.^ 150 

And some ther were that pleyned on absence. 
That werin exiled and put oute of presence 

3 disguise himself. * pursue. 

5 An allusion to the famous didactic allegorical work 
of Martianus Capella (fifth century), De NuptHsPhilol- 
ogiae et Mercui-ii, mentioned by Chaucer in the House 
0/ Fame. 

6 distress. f aback. 8 alleged some blemish. 



THE TEMPLE OF GLAS 



215 



Thurugh wikkid tungis and f als suspecioun, 
With-oute mercy or remyssyoun. 
And other eke her servise spent in vain, 
Thurugh cruel daunger, and also bi disdain; 
And some also that loved, soth to sein, 
And of her ladi were not lovyd again. 
And othir eke, that for poverte 
Durst in no wise hir grete adversite i6o 

Discure^ ue open, lest thai were refusid; 
And some for wanting also werin accusid, 
And othir eke that loved secreli. 
And of her ladi durst aske no merci, 
Lest that she would of hem have despite; 
And some also that putten ful grete wite^ 
On double lovers, that love thingis uwe, 
Thurgh whos falsnes hindred be the trwe. 
And some ther were, as it is ofte found, 
That for her ladi meny a blodi wouude 170 
Endurid hath in mani a regioun. 
Whiles that an other hath possessioun 
Al of his ladi, and berith awai the fruyte 
Of his labur and of al his suyte. 
And other eke compleyned of Riches, 
Hou he with Tresour doth his besines 
To wynnen al, againes kynd and ryght, 
Wher trw lovers have force noon ue myght. 
And some ther were, as maydens yung of 

age, 
That pleined sore with peping ^ and with 

rage, 180 

That thei were coupled, againes al nature. 
With croked elde, that mai not long endure 
Forto perfourme the lust of loves plai: 
For it ne sit "^ not unto fresshe May 
Forto be coupled to oolde lanuari — 
Thei ben so divers that thei moste varie — 
For eld is grucching and malencolious, 
Ay ful of ire and suspecious, 
And iouth entendeth to ioy and lustines, 
To myrth and plai and to al gladnes. 190 
* Alias that ever that it shulde fal. 
So soote sugre icoupled be with gal ! ' 
These yonge folk criden ofte sithe. 
And praied Venus hir pouer forto kithe^ 
Upon this myschef, and shape remedie. 
And right anon I herd othir crie 
With sobbing teris, and with ful pitous 

soune, 
Tofore the goddes, bi lamentacioim, 
That were constrayned in hir tender youthe, 
And in childhode, as it is ofte couthe,^ 200 
Y-entred were into religioun. 
Or thei hade yeris of discresioun, 



1 reveal. 
« becomes. 



> blame. 
» show. 



s screaming. 
6 known. 



That al her life cannot but complein, 

In wide copis perfeccion to feine, 

Ful covertli to curen al hir smert. 

And shew the contrarie outward of her hert. 

Thus saugh I wepen many a faire maide. 

That on hir freendis al the wite "^ thei leide. 

And other next I saugh there in gret rage, 

That thei were marled in her tendir age, 210 

With-oute fredom of eleccioun, 

Wher love hath seld domynacioun: 

For love, at laarge and at liberte. 

Would freli chese, and not with such trete.^ 

And other saugh I ful oft wepe and wring, 

That they in men founde swych variynge, 

To love a seisoun, while that beaute floirreth, 

And bi disdein so imgoodli loureth 

On hir that whilom he callid his ladi dere, 

That was to him so plesaunt and entere ; ^ 220 

But lust with fairness is so overgone, 

That in her hert trouth abideth none. 

And som also I saugh in teris reyne, 

And pitousli on God and kjTide pleyne, 

That ever thei would on eny creature 

So much beaute, passing bi mesure, 

Set on a woman, to yeve occasioun 

A man to love to his confusioun. 

And nameli there where he shal have no 

grace; 
For with a loke, forth-bi as he doth pace, 230 
Ful ofte falleth, thurugh casting of an 

yghe, 
A man is wouudid, that he most nedis 

deye, 
That never efter peraventure shal hir se. 
Whi wil God don so gret a cruelte 
To eny man, or to his creature. 
To maken him so mych wo endure, 
For hir, percaas,!^ whom he shal in no wise 
Rejoise never, but so forth in jewise ^^ 
Ledin his life, til that he be grave. ^ 
For he ne durst of hir no merci crave, 240 
And eke peraventure, though he durst and 

would. 
He can not wit, where he hir finde shuld. 
I saugh there eke, and therof hade I routhe, 
That som were hindred for covetise and 

slouth, 
And some also for her hastines, 
And other eke for hir reklesnes — 

But alderlast as I walk and biheld, 
Beside Pallas with hir cristal sheld, 
Tofore the statue of Venus set on height, 
How that ther knelid a ladi in my syght 250 



7 blame. 
10 perchance. 



8 treat, have to do. 
11 judgment, i.e. sorrow. 



9 devoted. 
iJ buried. 



2l6 



JOHN LYDGATE 



Tofore the goddes, which right as the sonne 
Passeth the sterres and doth hir stremes 

donne,^ 
And Lucifer, to voide the nyghtes sorow, 
In clerenes passeth erli bi the morow, 
And so as Mai hath the sovereinte 
Of evere moneth, of fairnes and beaute, 
And as the rose in swetnes and odoure 
Surmounteth floures, and bawme of al licour 
Haveth the pris, and as the rubie bright 
Of al stones in beaute and in sight, 260 

As it is know, now the regalie: 
Right so this ladi with hir goodli eighe. 
And with the stremes of hir loke so bright, 
Surmounteth al thurugh beaute in my 

sighte. 
For to tel hir gret semelines, 
Hir womanhed, hir port, and hir fairnes, 
It was a mervaile, hou ever that nature 
Coude in hir werkis make a creature 
So aungelike, so goodli on to se, 
So femynyn or passing of beaute, 270 

Whos sonnyssh here,^ brighter than gold 

were,^ 
Lich Phebus bemys shynyng in his spere — 
The goodlihed eke of hir fresshli face. 
So replenysshid of beaute and of grace, 
So wel ennuyd^ by Nature and depeint, 
That rose and lileis togedir were so meint,^ 
So egalli by good proporcioun. 
That, as me thought, in myn inspeccioiin 
I gan mervaile, hou God, or werk of kynd, 
Mighten of beaute such a tresour find, 280 
To yeven hir so passing excellence. 
For in goode faith, thurugh hir heigh pres- 
ence 
The tempil was enlumynd enviroun; 
And forto speke of condicioun. 
She was the best that myghte ben on lyve : 
For ther was noon that with hir myghte strive, 
To speke of bounte, or of gentilles. 
Of womanhed, or of lowlynes, 
Of curtesie, or of goodlihed. 
Of spech, of chere, or of semlyhed, 290 

Of port benygne, and of daliaunce. 
The beste taught; and therto of plesaunce 
She was the wel, and eke of oneste 
An exemplarie, and mirrour eke was she 
Of secrenes, of trouth, of faythfulnes, 
And to al other ladi and maistres, 
To sue vertu, whoso list to lere.^ 
And so this ladi, benigne and humble of 
chere. 



1 bedim. 
4 tinted. 



2 sunny hair. 
6 mingled. 



3 wire. 
6 teach. 



Kneling I saugh, al clad in grene and white, 
Tofore Venus, goddes of al delite, 300 

Enbrouded al with stones and perre ' 
So richeli, that joi it was to se. 
With sondri rolles on hir garnement, 
Forto expoune the trouth of hir entent, 
And shew fuUi, that for hir humbilles. 
And for hir vertu, and hir stabilnes, 
That she was rote of womanli plesaunce. 
Therfore hir woord withoute variauuce 
Enbrouded was, as men myghte se: 
* De mieulx en mieulx,' with stones and 

perre: 310 

This is to sein that she, this benigne, 
From bettir to bettir hir herte doth resigne, 
And al hir wil, to Venus the goddes, 
Whan that hir list hir harmes to redresse. 
For as me thought sumwhat bi hir chere, 
Forto compleyne she hade gret desire; 
For in hir bond she held a litel bil, 
Forto declare the somme of ?J hir will, 
And to the goddes hir quarel forto shewe, 
Theffect of which was this in wordys 

f ewe : — ^ 320 



NEW TROY 

{The Troy Book, 11. 479-768)9 

The sorwe aswaged, and the syghes olde, 
By longe processe, liche as I yow tolde. 
This worthi kyng, callyd Priamus, 
Is in his herte nowe so desyrous, 
Up-on the pleyn, that was so waste and 

wylde. 
So strong a toun of newe for to bilde, 
At his devyse a cite edefye, 
That schal th'assautys outterly defye 

^ gems. 

8 After this the lady, and then the lover, make over- 
long supplications to Venus, who naturally counsels the 
lady to accept the devoted service of the knight. The 
poem ends at line 1403 vpith "May Lydgate's poem 
please his lady." 

9 Lydgate's Troy Booh is a version of the celebrated 
Histuria Trojana of Guido delle Colonne; that is, it gives 
the account of Troy which passed current in the Middle 
Ages — the account received by Chaucer, for example, 
and the Gawain poet. In this strange and romantic tale 
the first Troy, Laomedon's, had been destroyed during 
Priam's absence by Hercules and Jason. It should be 
noted tnat London, fabled to have been founded by the 
Trojans, was sometimes called New Troy by the poets. 
Our extract gives an interesting mediaeval conception 
of town-planning as it might have been practiced by 
Edward I and other great founders. Warton in his 
History of English Poetry, London, 1840, vol. n, § 23, 
has a good description of the Troy Book. Our text is 
that of Bergen in his edition for the Early English Text 
Soc, with a few xmimportant modifications in typog- 
raphy. 



NEW TROY 



217 



Of alle enmyes, and his mortal foon, 
With riche tourys and wallys of hard 
stoon. xo 

And al aboute the centres enviroun, 
He made seke in every regioun 
For swiche werkemen as were corious, 
Of wyt inventyf, of castyngi merveilons; 
Or svvyche as coude craf te of gemetrye, 
Or wer sotyle in her fantasye; 
And for everyche that was good devysour, 
Mason, hewer, or crafty quareour; 
For every wright and passyng carpenter. 
That may be founde, owther fer or nere; 20 
For swyche as koude grave, grope,^ or 

kerve, 
Or swiche as werne able for to serve 
With lym or stoon, for to reise a wal. 
With bataillyng and crestis marcial; 
Or swiche as had konyng in her hed, 
Alabastre, owther white or redde, 
Or marbil graye for to pulsche^ it pleyn. 
To make it smothe of veynes and of greyn. 
He sent also for every ymagoiir, 
Bothe in entaille,^ and every purtreyour 30 
That coude drawe, or with colour peynt 
With hewes fresche, that the werke nat 

feynt;^ 
And swiche as coude with couutenaunees 

glade 
Make an ymage that wil nevere fade: 
To counterfet in metal, tre, or stoon 
The sotil werke of Pigmaleoun, 
Or of Appollo, the whiche as bokis telle, 
In ymagerye alle other dide excelle; 
For by his crafty werkyng corious, 
The towmbe he made of kyng Daryus 40 
Whiche Alysaundre dide on heyghte reise, 
Only for men schuld his fame preise, 
In his conquest by Perce whan he went. 
And thus Priam for every maister sent, 
For eche kerver and passynge joignour, 
To make knottis with many corious flour, 
To sette on crestis with-inne and with-oute 
Up-on the wal the cite rounde aboute; 
Or who that wer excellyng in practik 
Of any art callyd mekanyk, 50 

Or hadde a name flonryng or famus, 
Was after sent to come to Priam us. 
For he purposeth, this noble worthi kyng, 
To make a cite most royal in byldyng, 
Brod, large, and wyde, and lest it were as- 
sailed. 
For werre proudly abouten enbatailled. 



1 planning, reckoning. 
3 polish. * engraving. 



2 groove. 
5 fade. 



And first the grounde he made to be sought, 
Ful depe and lowe, that it faille nought 
To make sure the foundacioun; 
In the place where the olde touu 60 

Was first ybilt, he the wallis sette; 
And he of lond many myle out mette,® 
Aboute in eompas, for to make it large. 
As the maysters that toke on hem the charge 
Devysed han the settyng and the syyt. 
For holsom eyr to be more of delyt. 
And whan the soille, defouled with ruyne 
Of walles old, was made pleyn as lyne, 
The werkmen gan this cite for to founde, 
Ful myghtely with stonys square and 

rounde, 70 

That in this world was to it noon lyche 
Of werknianschip, nor of bildyng riche, 
Nor of crafte of coryous masoimry. 
I can no termys to speke of gemetrye, 
Wherfore as now I muste hem sette a-syde; 
For douteles I radde never Euclide, 
That the maister and the foundour was 
Of alle that werkyn by squyre or eompas, 
Or kepe her mesour by level or by lyne; 
I am to rude clerly to diffyne 80 

Or to discrive this werk in every parte, 
For lak of termys longyng to that arte. 
But I dar wel of trouthe affermyn here, 
In al this world ne was ther never pere 
Un-to this cite, and write it for a sothe. 
As in his boke my mayster Guy do doth. 
And that it niyght in prosperite. 
In hyghe honour and felicite. 
From al assaut perpetuelly contune," 
It reysed was in worschip of Neptune, 90 
And namyd Troye, as it was to-forn, 
Lyche the firste that was thorugh Grekis 

lorn. 
The lenthe was, schortly to conclude, 
Thre dayes journe, lyche the latitude. 
That never I herd make mencioun 
Of s^viche another of fundacioun. 
So huge in eompas nor of swiche larges, 
Nor to counte so passyng of f ayrues, 
So edyfied or lusty to the syght. 
And, as I rede, the walles wern on highte 
Two hundrid cubites, al of marbil gray, im 
Maskowed ^ with-oute for sautis ^ and assay; 
And it to make more pleasaunt of delyt, 
A-mong the marbil was alabaster white 
Meynt^*^ in the walles, rounde the toun 

aboute. 
To make it schewe with-inne and with-oute 



7 continue. 



9 assaults. 



8 Machicolated. 
10 Mingled. 



2l8 



JOHN LYDGATE 



So fresche, so riche, and so delitable, 

That it alone was incomperable 

Of alle cites that any mortal man 

Sawe ever yit, sithe the world began. no 

And at the corner of every wal was set 

A crowne of golde with riche stonys fret,^ 

That schone ful bright ageyn the sonne 

schene ; 
And euery tour bretexed ^ was so clene 
Of chose stoon, that wer nat fer a-sondre, 
That to beholde it was a verray wonder. 
Ther-to this cite compassed enviroun, 
Hadde sexe gatis to entre in- to the toun: 
The first of al and strengest eke with al, 
Largest also and most principal, 120 

Of myghty bildynge allone peereles, 
Was by the kyng callyd Dardanydes; 
And in story, lyche as it is fownde, 
Tymbria was named the secounde ; 
And the thridde callyd Helyas; 
The fourte gate hight also Cethas; 
The fyfte Troiana; the syxte Anthonydes, 
Strong and myghty bothe in werre and pes, 
With square toures set on every syde. 
At whos corners, of verray pompe and 

pride, ^ 130 

The werkmen han, with sterna and fel 

visages, 
Of riche entaille, set up gret ymages, 
Wrought out of ston, that never ar like to 

fayle, 
Ful coriously enarmed for batayle. 
And thorugh the wal, her fomen for to 

lette, 
At every tour wer grete gunnys sette, 
For assaut and sodeyn aventurys; 
And on tourettis wer reysed up figurys 
Of wylde bestis, as beris and lyouns, 
Of tigers, bores, of serpeutis and dragouns 
And hertis eke, with her brode homes, 141 
Olyfauutes and large unicornes, 
Buglis,^ bolys, and many grete grifoun, 
Forged of brasse, of copur and latoun, 
That cruelly by sygnes of her facys 
Up-on her foonmade fel manacys. 
Barbykans and bolewerkys huge, 
A-fore the toun made for highe refuge, 
Yiffe nede were, erly and eke late; 
And portecolys stronge at every gate, 150 
That hem thar nat noon assailyng charge; 
And the lowkis thikke, brode, and large, 
Of the gatys al of yoten ^ bras. 
And with-inne the myghty schittyng ^ was 



1 ornamented. 
8 Buffaloes. 



4 cast. 



2 battlemented. 
5 fastening. 



Of strong yrne barres square and rounde, 
And gret barrerys picched ^ in the grounds, 
With huge cheynes forged for diffence, 
Whiche nolde ' breke for no violence, 
That hard it was through hem for to wynne. 
And every hous, that was bilt with-inne, i6o 
Every paleys and every mancioun. 
Of marbil werne thorughout al the toun, 
Of crafty bildyng and werkyng most roial. 
And the heght was of every wal 
Sixty cubites from the grounde acountid; 
And ther was non that other hath sur- 

mountid 
In the cite, but of on heght alyche, 
In verray sothe, bothe of pore and riche. 
That it was harde of heighe estat or lowe 
Hous or palys asouuder for to knowe, 170 
So egaly of tymbre and of stoon 
Her housis wern reysed everychon. 
And if I schulde rehersen by and by 
The korve ^ knottes by crafte of masounry. 
The fresche enbowyng,^ with vergis '^^ right 

as linys. 
And the vowsyng ^^ ful of babewynes,^ 
The riche koynyng,^^ the lusty tablementis,!^ 
Vynnettis ^^ rennynge in the casementis — 
Though the termys in Englisch wolde ryrae. 
To rekne hem alle I have as now no tyme, 
Ne no langage pyked for the nonys, ^^ 181 
The sotil joynyng to tellen of the stonys, 
Nor how thei putten in stede of morter, 
In the joynturys copur gilt ful clere. 
To make hem joyne by level and by lyne, 
Among the marbil freschely for to schyne 
Agein the sonne, whan his schene lyght 
Smote in the gold, that was bornyd ^'' bright, 
To make the werke gletere ^^ on every syde. 
And of this toun the stretis large and wyde 
Wer by crafte so prudently provided, 191 
And by workemen sette so and devided. 
That holsom eyr amyddis myght enspire 
Erly on morwe to hem that it desyre; 
And Zephirus, that is so comfortable 
For to norysche thinges vegetable. 
In tyme of yere, thorugh-oute every strete, 
With sugred flavour, so lusty and so swete, 
Most pleasantly in the eyr gan smyte, 
The cyteyeyns only to delyte; 200 

And with his brethe hem to recomfort, 
Whan thei list walke hem silven to dis- 
port. 

6 set. 7 would not. 8 carved. » arching. 
10 columns. 11 vaultings, tabernacles. 12 grotesque 
figures, images, is quoining, corner-work. 1* panels. 
15 Carved tendrils. is suitable for the occasion. 
17 burnished. is smoother. 



NEW TROY 



219 



And thorugh the toun, by crafty purvi- 

aunce, 
By gret avys and discret ordynaunee, 
By compas cast, and squared out by squires,^ 
Of pulsched marbil up-on strong pilleris, 
Devised wern, longe, large, and wyde, 
In the frountel^ of every stretis syde, 
Fresehe alures ^ with lusty highe pynacles, 
And moustryng ^outward riehe tabernacles, 
Vowted ° above like reclinatories,^ 211 

That called werne deambulatories, 
Men to walke to-gydre tweine and tweyne, 
To kepe hem drie whan it dide reyne, 
Or hem to save from tempest, wynde, or 

thonder, 
Yit that hem list schrowde hem silve ther- 

under. 
And every hous cured '^ was with led; 
And many gargoyl and many hidous hed 
With spoutis thorugh, and pipes as thei 

ought, 
From the ston-werke to the canel raught,^ 
Voyding filthes low in-to the grounde, 221 
Thorugh gratis percid of yren percid rounde ; 
The stretis paved bothe in lengthe and 

brede. 
In cheker wyse with stonys white and rede. 
And every craft, that any maner man 
In any lond devise or rekene can, 
Kyng Priamus, of highe discrecioun, 
Ordeyned hath to dwellyn in the toun, 
And in stretis, severyd her and yonder, 
Everyche from other to be sette a-sonder, 
That thei niyght, for more comodite, 231 
Eche be hym silfe werke at liberte: 
Gold-smythes first, and riche jowellers, 
And by hem silf crafty browdereris,^ 
Wevers also of wolne and of lyne, 
Of cloth of gold, damaske, and satyn, 
Of welwet, cendeljio and double samyt eke, 
And every clothe that men list to seke; 
Smythes also, that koude forge wele 239 
Swerdis, pollex,i- and speris scharp of stele, 
Dartis, daggeris, for to mayme and woimde. 
And quarel ^^ hedis scharp and square- 

ygrounde. 
Ther wer also crafty armoureris, 
Bowyers,!^ and faste by fleccheris,^^ 
And swyche as koude make schaftes pleyn, 
And other eke that dide her besy peyn 

1 squares. 2 front, fagade. ' covered passages. 
« showing. 5 Vaulted. » couches (Xew Eng. 

Diet.); better, confessionals? t covered, s reached 
to the gutter. » embroiderers. 10 thin silk. 
" poleaxe 12 quarrel, arrow for the crossbow. 
13 Bow-makers. i* arrow-featherera. 



For the werre to make also trappuris,!^ 
Bete ^® baners and royal cote armuris, 
And by devise stoudardis, and penowns, 
And for the felde fresehe and gay gy- 

touns.i" 250 

And every crafte that may rekned be, 
To tell schortly, was in his cite. 
And thorugh this toun, so riche and excel- 
lent, 
In the myddes a large river went, 
Causyng to hem ful gret commodite; 
The whiche on tweyne hath partid the cite, 
Of cours ful swyft, with fresehe stremys 

clere. 
And higlite Xanctus, as Guy do doth us 

lere. 
And as I rede, that up-on this flood, 
On eche-asyde many mylle stood, 260 

Whan nede was her grayn and corn to 

grinde, 
Hem to sustene, in story as I fynde. 
This river eke, of fysche ful plentevous, 
Devided was by werkmen corious 
So craftely, thorough castyng ^^ sovereyne, 
That in his course the stremys myght at- 

teyn 
For to areche,!^ as Guydo doth conjecte,^*^ 
By archis strong his cours for to reflecte 
Thorugh condut pipis, large and wyde 

with-al, 
By certeyn meatis ^i artificial, 270 

Tliat it made a ful purgacioun 
Of al ordure and fylthes in the toun, 
Waschyng the stretys as thei stod a rowe, 
And the goteris in the erthe lowe, 
That in the cite w^as no filthe sene; 
For the canel skoured was so clene. 
And devoyded--^ in so secre wyse, 
That no man myght espien nor devyse 
By what engyn the filthes, fer nor ner, 
Wern born a-way by cours of the ryver — 
So covertly every thing was cured.^-^ 281 
Wher-by the toun was outterly assured 
From engenderyng of al corrupcioun. 
From wikked eyr and from infeccioun, 
That causyn ofte by her violence 
Mortalite and gret pestilence. 
And by example of this flode ther was 
Made Tibre at Rome, and wrought by 

Eneas, 
The which also departed Rome on two, 
Myn auctor seith, I not wher it be so. 290 

15 trappings. i' Embroider. i^ small flags. 
IS device. i* reach. *" conjecture, 

w chaimela. 22 emi)tied. »3 covered. 



220 



JOHN LYDGATE 



BYCORNE AND CHICHEVACHEi 

First ther shal stonde an ymage in poet wise, 
seyeng these iij balades 

O PRUDENT folkes takithe heede, 
And remerabrithe in youre lyves, 
How this story dothe precede, 
Of the husbandes and theyr wyfes, 
Of theyr accorde and theyr stryves, 
Withe lyf or dethe whiche to derayne ^ 
Is graunted to these bestes twayne. 

Than shal he portrayed two best is, oonfatte, 
another leene. 

For this Bycorne of his nature 

Will non other maner foode, 

But pacient husks never in his pasture, lo 

And Chichevache etithe wymmen goode: 

And bothe these bestes, by the roode ! 

Be fatte or leene, it may nat faQe, 

Like lak or plente of theyr vitaile. 

Of Chychevache and of Bycorne 

Tretithe holy this matere, 

Whos story hathe taught us beforn, 

Howe these bestes bothe in feere ^ 

Have ther pasture, as ye shal here, 

Of men and wymmen in sentence, 20 

Thurghe suffraunce or thurghe impacience. 

Than shal be protrayed a fatte beste callid By- 
corne, of the cuntrey of Bycornoys, and seyn these 
thre baladis folowyng. 

Of Bycornoys I am Bycorne, 

Ful fatte and ronnde here as I stonde, 

And in mariage bounde and sworne 

To Chivache, as hir husbonde, 

Whiche will nat eete, on see nor londe, 

But pacient wyfes debonayre, 

Whiche to her husboudes be nat contrayre, 

F11I scarce, God wote! is hir vitaile. 
Humble wyfes she fynt ^ so fewe, 30 

For alweys at the countre-taile ^ 
Theyr tunge clappithe and dothe hewe;^ 
Suche meke wyfes I be-shrewe, 

1 "Two-Horn" and "Lean-Cow" are the English 
renderings of the mediaeval French " Bigorne " (mean- 
ing uncertain) and Chicheface (lean-face). Chaucer in 
the ClerKs Tale, 1. 1131, warns wives not to be so pa- 
tient as Griselda "lest Chichevache them swelwe in 
his entraille." Our piece is said to have been written 
for " a peynted or desteyned clothe for an halle, a par- 
lour, or a chanmbre " ; v. Anglia xxii, 364. The text is 
J. 0. Halli well's in the Percy Society Edition of Lyd- 
gate's Minor Poems, London. 1840, p. 129. 

2 adjudge. 3 together. « findetb. 
B in retaliation. » make outcry. 



That neyther can at bedde ne boorde 
Theyr husbondes nat forbere oon woorde. 

But my foode and my cherisshynge, 

To telle plainly and nat to varye. 

Is of suche folke whiche theyr livynge 

Dare to theyr wyfes be nat contrarye, 

Ne from theyr lustis dare nat varye, 40 

Nor withe hem holde no champartye, '^ 

Al suche my stomack wil defye.^ 

Than shal be portrayed a company of men com- 
yng towardis this beste Bycorne, and sey these 
foure baladis. 

Felawes7H;akethe heede, and ye may see 
How Bycorne castithe bym to devoure 
AUe humble men, bothe yow and me, 
Ther is no gayne may us socoure: 
Woo be therfor, in halle and boure. 
To al these husbandes whiche theyr lives 
Maken maystresses of theyr wyfes. 

Who that so dothe, this is the la we, 50 

That this Bycorne wil hym oppresse. 

And devouren in his mawe. 

That of his wife makithe his maystresse; 

This wil us bryng in grete distresse. 

For we, for oure humylite, 

Of Bycorne shal devoured be. 

We stonden plainly in suche case, 

That they to us maystressis be ; 

We may wele syng, and seyn, alias! 

That we gaf hem the soverante ; 60 

For we ben thralle and they be free; 

Wherfor Bycorn, this cruel beste, 

Wil us devouren at the lest. 

But who that can be soverayne. 

And his wife teche and chastise. 

That she dare nat a worde gayn-seyn, 

Nor disobeye in no manner wise; 

Of suche a man I can devise, 

He stant under protectioune. 

From Bycornes jurisdiccioune. 70 

Than shal ther be a woman devoured in the 
mowthe of Chichevache, cryeng to alle wyfes, and 
sey tuese balad: 

O noble wyves, bethe wele ware, 
Takithe en sample now by me; 
Or ellis afferme wele I dare, 
Ye shal be ded, ye shal nat flee ; 
Bethe crabbed, voydithe humylite, 
t rivalry. s digest. 



A DIETARY 



221 



Or Chichevache ne wil iiat faile 
Yow for to swolow iu his entraile. 

Than shal ther be portrayed a long horned 
teste, sklendre and leetie, with sharp tethe, and on 
his body nothyng sauf skyn and boon. 

Chichevache this is my name, 

Hungry, megre, sklendre, and leene, 

To she we my body I have gret shame; 80 

For hunger I feele so grete teene,i 

On me no fatnesse wil be seene. 

By cause that pasture I fynde none, 

Therfor I am but skyn and boon. 

For my fedying in existence 

Is of wymmen that ben meke, 

And liche Gresield in pacience, 

Or more theyr bounte for to eeke; 

But I ful longe may gon and seeke, 

Or I can fynde a good repast 90 

A morwe to breke with my fast. 

I trowe ther be a deere yeere ^ 
Of pacient wymmen now these dayes; 
Who grevithe hem witlie word or chere, 
Lete hym be ware of suche assayes, 
For it is more than thritty Mayes, 
That I have souglit from lond to lond, 
But yit oon Gresield never I fond. 

I fonde but oon in al my lyve, 

And she was ded ago ful yoore. 100 

For more pasture I will nat stryve, 

Nor seche for my foode no more, 

Ne for vitaile me to restore ; 

Wymmen bien woxen so prudent, 

They wil no more be pacient. 

Than shal be portrayed after Chivache, an aide 
man withe a baston on his bake, manasynge the 
best for devouring of his wyfe. 

My wife, alias! devoured is, 

Most pacient and most pesible, 

She never sayde to me amysse, 

Whom hathe nowe slayn this best horrible, 

And for it is an impossible, no 

To fynde ever suche a wyfe, 

I wil live sowle duryng my lyfe. 

For now of newe for theyr prow,^ 
The wyfes of ful highe prudence 
Have of assent made ther avow, 
For to exile forever pacience. 
And cryed wolfes hede obedience,^ 

1 suffering. 2 dearth. ' advantage. 
« outlawed obedience. 



To make Chichevache faile 
Of hem to fynde more vitaile. 

Now Chichevache may fast longe, 120 

And dye for al hir crueltee, 

Wymmen hav made hemself so stronge 

For to outraye ° humylite. 

O cely '° husbondes, "wo been yee ! 

Suche as can have no pacience 

Ageyns yowre wyfes violence. 

If that ye suffre, ye be but ded, 
This Bycorne awaitethe yow so sore; 
Eeke of yowre wyfes ye stand in drede, 
Yif ye geyn-seyn hem any more; 130 

And thus ye stonde and have don yore, 
Of lyfe and dethe betwixt coveyne,"^ 
Lynkede in a double cheyne. 



A DIETARY 8 

For helth of body cover for cold thyn hede ; 
Ete no raw mete, — take goode heede 
tlierto; 
Drynk holsom wyne; feede the on light 
brede; 
Withe an appetite rise from thy mete also. 
In thyn age, with wymmen have thow nat 
ado; 
Upon thi slepe drynke nat of the cuppe ; 
Glad towards bedde and at morowe both to, 
And use never late for to souppe. 



> 
use 



And if it so be that lechis done the faile, 

Thanne take goode [hede] and 

thynges iii, — 10 

Temperat dyete, temperat travaile, 

Nat malicious for none adversite; 
Meke in trouble, gladde in poverte; 

Riche with lite), content wnth suffisaunce, 
Nat grucchyng,^ but mery like thi degre; 

If phesyk lak, make this thy gover- 
naunce. 

To every tale, sone, yeve thow no credence; 

Be nat to hasty, nor sodainly vengeable; 
To poore folke do thow no violence; 

Curteys of language, in speudyng mes- 
urable; 20 

5 crush. 8 silly, hapless. ^ conspiracy. 

8 Translated from thel^tin, which is given, with an- 
other version of the English, by F. J. Fumivall, Bobees 
Book, p. 55, Early Eug. Text Soc, London, 1868. Our 
text is from the Percy Society edition of the Minor 
Poen.s, Loudon, 1840, p. 66. 9 grumbling. 



222 



JOHN LYDGATE 



On sundry mete nat gredy at the table; 

In fedyng gentil, prudent in daliaunce; 
Close of tunge, of word nat deceyvable, 

To sey the best sette alwey thy pies- 



Have in hate mowthes that ben double; 

Suffre at thy table no distractioun; 
Have despite of folkes that ben trouble, 

Of false rowners ^ and adulacioun; 
Withyn thy court, suffre no divisioun, 

Whiche, in thi houshold, shal cause grete 
encrese 30 

Of al welfare, prosperite, and foyson; 

With thy neyghburghs lyve in rest and 
peas. 

Be clenly clad after thyn estate; 

Passe nat thy bowndis, kepe thy promyse 
blyth; 
With thre folkes thow be nat at debate: 
First with thy bettir beware for to 
stryve; 
Ayenst thy felawe no quarrele thou con- 
try ve; 
With thy subject to stryve it were shame: 
Wherfor I counsaile thow pursue al thy 
lyve, 
To lyve in peas and gete the a goode 



Fuyre^ at morowe, and towards bed at 
eve. 

For mystis blake, and eyre ^ of pestilence ; 
Betyme at masse, thow shalt the better 
preve, 

First at thi risyng do to God reverence. 
Visite the pore, with intyre diligence; 

On al nedy have thow compassioun, 
And God shal sende grace and influence, 

To encrese the and thy possessioun. 

Suffre no surfetis in thy house at nyght. 
Ware of reresoupers,^ and of grete ex- 
cesse, 50 

Of noddyng hedys and of candel light, 
And slowth at morowe and slomberyng 
idelnes, 
Whiche of al vices is chief porteresse; 

Voyde al drunklew,^ lyers, and lechours; 
Of al unthriftes exile the mastres, 

That is to say, dyse, players, and haserd- 
ours. 

1 whisperers, tale-teliers. 2 Fire. 3 air. 4 late suppers. 
B drvuiken persons. Strictly, " drunkenness." 



After mete beware, make nat to long 
slepe; 
Hede, foote,and stomak preserve ay from 
cold; 
Be nat to pensyf, of thought ^ take no 
kepe; 
After thy rent mayntene thyn house- 
hold, 60 
Suffre in tyme, in thi right be bold; 
Swere none othis no man to begyle, 

In thi yowth be lusty; sad "^ whan thou 
art olde. 

Dyne nat at morwe aforne thyn appetite, 
Clere eyre and walkyng makith goode 
digestioun; 
Betwene meles drynk nat for no froward 
delite 
But thurst or travaile yeve the occasioun; 
Over salt mete doth grete oppressioun 
To fieble stomakes, whan they can nat re- 
freyne, 
For nothyng more contrary to theyr com- 
plexioun; 70 

Of gredy handes the stomak hath grete 
peyne. 

Thus in two thyngs standith al the welthe 

Of sowle and body, who so lust to sewe; ^ 
Moderate foode giveth to man his helthe, 

And al surfetis doth from hym remewe, 
And charite to the sowle is dewe ; 

This ressayt is bought of no poticarye, 
Of mayster Antony, nor of maister Hewe; 

To al indifferent, richest diatorye. 



ON WOMEN'S HORNS 9 

Of God and kynd procedyth all beaulte; 
Crafte may shew a foren apparence. 
But nature ay must haf the soveraynte. 
Thyng countirf etyd hath non existence ; 
Twene gold and gossomer is gret differ- 
ence ; 
Trewe metall requirith non alay; 
Unto purpose by clere experience, 
Bewtey will shewe,.thow hornys be away. 

6 anxiety. ^ serious. ^ give attention, follow. 

9 These great horned headdresses were favorite tar- 
gets for satire. For cuts and descriptions of them see 
Mrs. C. H. Ashdown's British Costumes, frontispiece, 
and pp. 167 f . Our text is from Political, Religious, and 
Love Poems, ed. F. J. Furnivall, E. E. T. Soc, 1893. 
The piece is also found in the Percy Soc. edition of the 
Minor Poems, and in Reliquiae Antiquae, ed. Wright 
and Halliwell, London, 1841, i, 79. 



LYDGATE'S MUMMING AT HERTFORD 



223 



Riche attyrys of gold and of perry,^ 
Charbunclys, rubeys of most excellence, 10 
Shew in derknes lyght, whereso they be, 
By their natural hevenly influence; 
Doblettes of glasse yeve a gret evidence, 
Thyng countirfet wyl failen at assay; 
On thys mater, concludyng in sentence, 
Bewte wyll shew, thow homes be away. 

Aleyn ^ remembryght, hys Complaynt who 

list see, 
In hys boke of f amose eloquence ; 
Cladd all in flowris, and blossummys of a 

tre, 
He saw Nature in hyr most excellence, 20 
Upon hyr hede a kerchef of valence,^ 
None othyr riches of countyrfet aray; 
T'exemplifye by kyndly providence, 
Bewte wyll shew thow hornys be away. 

Famose poetys of antiquite 

In Grece and Troy, renowmyd of pru- 
dence, 

Wrote of qwene Helene, and Penolope, 

Of Policene ^ with hyr chast innocence; 

For wyfys trew call Lucrece to presence; 

That they were fayre, ther can no man say 
nay; 30 

Kynd^ wroght hem with so grete dili- 
gence, 

Theyr bewte cowde shew, thow hornys were 
cast away. 

Clerkes record by gret auctorite, 
Hornys wer gyffe to best is for diffence, 
A thyng contrary to feminite. 
To be mad sturdy of resistence; 
But archwyfes, eger in ther violence, 
Fierse as a tigre forto make affray. 
They haf despite, and agayne conscience, 
List not, of pride, theyre hornys cast 
away. 40 

LENVOYE 

Noble princesse, thys litell short ditey. 
Rudely compilyd, lat it be none offence 
To yowre womanly mercifull pyte, 
Thow it be radd in yowr audience. 

1 jewelry. 

2 Alain de I'lsle (Lille), Alanus de Insulis, wrote his 
Complaint of Nature (De Planctu Naturae) in the lat- 
ter half of the twelfth century. It was extremely in- 
fluential, Chaucer m fh^ Parliament of Fowls, \.21Q, 
alludes to this same description of Nature. 

» A thin, fine material. Such a kerchief is Venus's 
whole array in the Parliament of Foivls, 1. 272. 
« Polyxena, the love of Achilles. « Nature. 



Payse ® every thyug in yowre just adver- 
tence. 
So it be no displesance to yowre pay,"^ 
Undir support of yowr pacience, 
Yeveth example homes to cast away. 

Grettest of vertues is humilite. 
As Salamon sayth, sou of Sapience, 50 

Most was accepted to the deite. 
Take hede here-of, gefe to thys word cre- 
dence. 
How Maria, who had a preeminence 
Above all women, in Bedlem whan she lay. 
At Christis byrth, no cloth of gret dispence. 
She weryd a keverche; hornys were cast 
away. 

Of byrthe she was hyghest of degre. 
To whom all angelles did obedience, 
Of Davides lyne, which sprong out of lesse. 
In whom all verteu is, by iust convenience 60 
Made stable in God by gostly confidence. 
This rose of Jerico, ther growith non such 

in May, 
Pure in spirite, parfite in pacience. 
In whom all hornys of pride were put away. 

Moder of Ihesu, myrrour of chastite, 
In word nor thowght that never did offence; 
Trew examplire of virginite, 
Hede-spryngand well of parfite continence ! 
Was never clerk, by retoryk or science, 
Cowde all hyr verteus reherse to this day. 
Noble princesse, of meke benivolence, 71 
By example of hyr, yowre hornys cast away. 



LYDGATE'S MUMMING AT 
HERTFORD 8 

Most noble prynce, with support of your 

grace 
Ther been entred into youre royal place. 
And late coomen in to youre castell 
Youre poure lieges, wheche lyke nothing 

weel, 
6 Weigh. "> pleasure. 

8 This jocose piece, printed by Miss Hammond in 
Anglia xxii, p. 364 f., was written in the first quarter 
of the 15th century; and it is preceded by this heading: 
— Nowe folowethe here the maner of a bille by wey 
of supplicacoun piitte to the Kj'ng, holding his noble 
feast of Christmasse in the Castel of Hertford, as in a 
disguysing of the rude upplandisshe people compleyn- 
ing on hir wyves. With the boystous aunswere of hir 
wyves. Devysed by Lydgate at the request of the 
Countre Roullour. 



224 



JOHN LYDGATE 



No we in the vigyle of this nuwe yeere 
Certeyne sweynes f ul frowaid of ther chere 
Of entent comen, fallen on ther kne, 
For to compleyne unto yuoure magestee 
Upon the mescheef of giet adversytee, 
Upon the trouble and the cruweltee, lo 

Which that they have endured in theyre 

lyves 
By the felnesse of theyre fierce wyves; 
Which is a tournient verray importable, 
A bonde of sorowe, a knott uuremuwable; 
For whoo is bounde or locked in maryage, 
Yif he beo olde, he fallethe in dotage; 
And yong folkes, of theyre lymmes sklen- 

dre, 
Grene and lusty and of brawne but tendre — 
Phylosophres callen in suche age 
A chylde to wyve a woodnesse^ or a 

raage ; 20 

For they afferme ther is noon eorthely stryff 
May bee compared to wedding of a wyff. 
And who that ever stondethe in the cas, 
He with his rebecke^ may sing ful offt 

* Ellas ! ' 
Lyke as theos hynes here stonding oon by 

oon, 
He may with hem upon the daunce goon, 
Leorne the traas, boothe at even and mor- 

owe, 
Of Karycantowe ^ in tourment and in sor- 
owe, 
Weyle the whyle, ellas, that he was borne. 
For Obbe the Reeve that goothe here al to 

forne 30 

He pleynthe sore his mariage is not meete, 
For his wyff, Beautryce Bittersweete, 
Cast upon him an hougly cheer ^ ful ro wghe. 
Whane he komethe home ful wery from the 

ploughe, 
Whith hungry stomake, deed and paale of 

cheere. 
In hope to fynde redy his dynier, 
Thanne sittethe Beautryce boiling at the 

nale,^ 
As she that gyvethe of him no maner tale; 
For she al day with hir jowsy nolle® 
Hathe for the collyk pouped''' in the bolle; 40 
And for heedache, with pepir and gynger 
Drank dolled^ ale to make hir throte clear; 
And kemethe hir hoome whane hit drawethe 

to eve. 
And thanne Robyn, the cely ^ poure Reeve, 
1 madness. 2 fiddle. ' The traas of K. is appar- 
ently the dance of the henpecked. ^ ugly counte- 
nance. 5 quaffing at the tavern. " drunken head. 
' tooted, gulped. s mulled. 9 silly, harmless. 



Fynde noone amendes of harome ^° ne dam- 
age. 
But leene growell,^^ and soupethe colde pot- 
age; 
And of his wyf hathe noone other cheer 
But cokkroworthes ^ unto his souper. 
This is his servyce sitting at the horde; 
And cely Robyn, yif he speke a worde, 50 
Beautryce of hiui dootlie so lytel rekke 
That with hir distaff she hittethe him in the 

nekke 
For a medecyne to chawf ^^ with his blood. 
With suche a metyerde ^^ she hathe shape 

him an hoode.^^ 
And Colyn Cobeller, folowing his felawe, 
Hathe hade his part of the same la we; 
For by the feyth that the preost him gaf, 
His wyff hathe taught him to pleyne at^^ 

the staff, 
Hir quarter strookis were so large and 

rounde. 
That on his rigge ^'^ the towche was alwey 

founde. 60 

Cecely Soure-Chere, his oweu precyous 

spouse, 
Kowde him reheete ^^ whane he came to 

house. 
Yif he ought spake whanne he felt peyne, 
Ageyne on worde alweys he hade tweyne. 
Sheo qwytt him ever — ther was nothing to 

seeche — 
Six for on of worde and strookes eche. 
Ther was no meen bytweene hem for to 

goone. 
Whatever he wan clowting olde shoone 
The wykday — pleynly this is no tale — 
Sheo wolde on Sondayes drynk it at the 

nale.^^ 70 

His part was noon; he sayde not onys 

nay. 
Hit is no game,^^ but an hernest play, 
For lack of wit a man his wyf to greeve. 
Theos housbondemen — whoso wolde hem 

leeve ^^ — 
Koude, yif they dourst, telle in audyence 
What followthe ther, of wyves to doone 

offence. 
Is noon so olde ne ryveld ^^ on hir face. 
Wit tong or staff but that she dare manase. 
Mabyle — God hir sauve and blesse — 
Koude, yif hir list, here hereof witnesse. 80 

10 harm. 11 gruel. 12 heated-up vegetables. 
13 heat. 14 measuring-stick. is Figuratively, 

" fooled him." 16 play at — or, possibly, complain of. 
" back. 18 comfort. The word also means assail. 

19 alehouse. 20 joke. 21 believe. 22 wrinkled. 



LYDGATE'S MUMMING AT HERTFORD 



225 



Wordes, strookes, unhappe, and harde 

grace, 
With sharp nayles kracching m the face — 
I mene thus, whane the distaff is broke 
With they re fistes wyves wol be wrooke.^ 
Blessed thoo meu that cane in suche offence 
Meekly souffre, take al in pacyence, 
Tendure suche wyfly purgatorye, 
Heven for theyre meede, to regne ther in 

glorye. 
God graunt al housbandes that beon in this 

place 
To Wynne so Hevon, for his hooly grace. 90 
Nexst in order this bochier^ stoute and 

bolde, 
That killed bathe bulles and boores olde, 
This Berthilmewe, for al his broode knyff, 
Yit durst he never with his sturdy wyff 
In no mater holde chaumpartye.^ 
And if he did, sheo wolde anoon defye 
Hispompe, his pryde, with a sterne thought. 
And sodeynly setten him at nought. 
Thoughe his bely were rounded lyche an 

ooke, 99 

She wolde not fayle to gyf the first strooke; 
For proude Pernelle lyche a chaumpyoun 
Wolde leve hir puddinges ^ in a gret caw- 

droun, 
Suffre hem boylle and take of hem noon 

heede, 
But with hir skumour 5 reeche him on the 

heved. 
Shee wolde paye him and make no delaye; 
Bid him goo pleye him a twenty devel wey. 
She was no cowarde founde at suche a 

neode; 
Hir fist fill offt made his eheekis bleed. 
What querell ever that he agenst hir sette, 
She cast hir not to dyeu in his dette. no 
She made no taylle, but qwj'tt him by and 

by; 6 
His quarter sowde ' she payde him f eyth- 

fully, 
And his waages, with al hir best entent; 
She made therof noon assignement. 
£eke Thomme T}Tiker, with alle hees pannes 

olde, 
And alle the wyres of Banebury that he 

solde, 
His styth,^ his hamour, his bagge portatyf, 
Bare up his arme whane he faught with his 

wyff — 

1 avenged. 2 butcher. s dispute the sovereignty. 
* sausages. ' skimmer. « ran up no account 

but paid instantly. ^ hire. s anvil. 



He foonde for haste no better bokeller, 
Upon his cheke the distaff came so neer. 120 
Hir name was cleped Tybot Tapister. 
To brawle and broyle she nad no maner f er. 
To thakke his pilche stoundemel^ nowe 

and thanne 
Thikker thane Thome koude clowten any 

panne. 
Nexst Colle Tyler, ful bevy of his cheer, 
Compleynethe on Phelyce his wyff, the 

wafurer.^° 
Al his bred with sugre nys not baake, 
Yit on his eheekis some tyme he bathe a caake 
So hoot and nuwe or he can taken heede 
That his heres glowe verray reede 130 

For a medecyne whane the forst is colde. 
Making his teethe to ratle, that beon olde. 
This is the comple^Tit that theos dotardes 

olde 
Make on theyre wyves, that beon so stoute 

and bolde. 
Thes holy martirs preved ful pacyent, 
Lowly beseching in al hir best enteut 
Unto youre noble ryal niagestee 
Tograunte hem fraunchyse, and also liber- 
tee — 
Sith they beothe fetird and bounden in 

maryage — 139 

A suaf conduytto sauf him frome damage, 
Eeke under support of youre hyeghe renouu 
Graunt hem also a proteccyoun. 
Conquest of wyves is rone thoroughe this 

lande, 
Cleyming of right to have the hyegher 

hande; 
But if you list of youre regallye 
The olde testament for to modefye, 
And that thee list asselen theyre ^^ request, 
That theos poure husbandes might lyf in 

rest, 
And that thej-re wyves, in theyre felle 

might, 
Wol medle amonge mercy with theyre 

right; 12 150 

For it came never of nature ne raysoun 
A lyonesse t'oppresse the lyoun; 
Ner a wolfesse for al hir thyrannye. 
Over the wolf to haven the maystrye, 
Ther beon nowe wolfesses moo thane twoo 

or three, 
The bookys^^ recorde, wheeche that yonder 

bee. 



9 To thwack his hide by the hour. 10 wafer-maker. 
11 seal or grant their (the husbands'). 12 mingle 

mercy with justice. ^' The MS. has Rookys. 



226 



JOHN LYDGATE 



Seothe ^ to this mater of mercy and of 

grace ; 
And or thees dotardes parte out of this 

place, 
Upon theyre compleynt to shape remedye, 
Or they be likly to stande in jupardye, i6o 
It is no game with wyves for to playe, 
But for foolis that gif no force to deye. 

Take the heed of th'' aunswer of the wyves. 

Touching the substaunce of this hyeghe 

discorde, 
We six wyves beon ful of oon accorde. 
Yif worde and chyding may ns not avaylle, 
We wol darrein ^ it in chaumpcloos ^ by ba- 

taylle 
In part^ oure right, laate or ellys raathe;^ 
And for oure partye the worthy wyff of 

Bathe 
Cane shewe statutes moo than six or seven, 
Howe wyves make hir housbandes wynne 

Heven, 170 

Maugre the feonde and al his vyolence; 
For theyre vertu of parfyte pacyence 
Partenethe not to wyves nowe adayes 
Sauf on theyre housbandes for to make as- 



Ther pacyence was buryed long agoo; 
Gresyldes story recordethe pleinly soo. 
It longethe to us to clappen as a mylle. 
No counselyle keepe, but the trouth oute 

telle. 
We beo not borne by hevenly influence 
Of oure nature to keepe us in sylence; 180 
For this is no doute — every prudent wyff 
Hathe redy aunswere in al suche maner 

stryff, 
Thoughe theos dotardes with theyre 

dokked berdes. 
Which strowtethe out as they were made 

of herdes,® 
Have ageyn hus a gretquarell nowe sette. 
I trowe the bakenn was never of hem fette "^ 
Awaye at Dounmowe in the Pryorye.^ 
They weene of us to have ay the mays- 

trye. 

1 Imperative of " see." 2 decide. 

3 Settle it in the lists. On the rights and liabilities of 
women in the judicial combat see H. C. Lea's Supersti- 
tion and Force (Phil. 1892), p. 152. * On behalf of. 

5 early. « stick out as if made of hards, flax fibres. 

7 won by them. 

8 An allusion to the celebrated Dunmore flitch for 
happy couples, given yearly ever since the early thir- 
teenth century. Chaucer {Wife of Bath's Prologue, 
218) and Langland (Piers Plowman A, X, 188) allude to 
it. See Skeat's note to the latter passage and the Illus- 
trated London News for Aug. 24th, 1912, p. 289. 



Ellas! theos fooles! Let hem aunswere here 

to, 
Who cane hem wasshe who can hem wringe 

alsoo. 190 

Wryng hem — yee wryng — so als God us 

speed. 
Til that some tyme we make hir nases 

bleed; 
And sowe hir cloothes whane they bethe 

to rent, 
And clowthe hir bakkes til some of us be 

shent. 
Loo yit theos fooles — God gyf hem sory 

chaunce! 
Wolde sette hir wyves under gouvernaunce; 
Make us to hem for to lowte ^ lowe. 
We knowe to well the bent of Jackys 

bowe. 
Al that we clayme, we clay me it but of 

right. _ 199 

Yif they say nay, let preve it out by fight. 
We wil us grounde not upon woraanhede — 
Fy on hem, cowardes! when hit komethe to 

nede — 
We clayme maystrye by prescripcyoun, 
Be long tytle of successyoun 
Frome wyff to wyff, which we wol not 

leese. 
Men may weel gruchche,^^ but they shal not 

cheese.ii 
Custume is us for nature and usaunce 
To let oure housbandes lyf in great noy- 

sannce, 
Humbelly byseching nowe at oon worde 
Unto oure liege and moost soverein lord 210 
Us to defende of his regallye,!^ 
And of his grace susteenen oure partye, 
Reqnering the statuyt of olde antiquytee, 
That in youre tyme it may confermed bee. 

• 
The complaynte of the lewed housbandes with 
the cruwell aunswers of theyre wyves herde, the 
kyng yivethe therupon sentence and Jugeme7it. 

This noble Prynce, moost royal of estate, 
Having an eyeghe to this mortal debate, 
First adverting of ful hyeghe prudence, 
Wil unavysed gyve here no sentence, 218 
Witheoute counseylle of haste to procede 
By sodeyne doome, for he takethe heede 
To eyther partye as juge indifferent, 
Seing the paryll of hasty jugement; 
Pourposithe him in this contynnde stryff 
To gif no sentence therof diffynytyff 
Til ther be made exaraynacyoun. 
8 bow. 10 grumble. ^^ choose. 12 royalty. 



THE LEGEND OF DAN JOOS 



227 



He considerethe and makethe raysoun Ms 

guyde, 
As egal juge, enclyning to noo syde, 
Notwithstanding he hathe compassyoun 
Of the poure housbandes trybidacyoun, 229 
80 offt arrested with theyre wyves rokkes,^ 
Which of theyre distaves have so many 

knokkes; 
Peysing 2 also in his regallye 
The lawe that wymnien allegge for theyre 

partye, 
Custume, Nature, and eeke prescripcyoun, 
Statuyt used by confirmaeyoun, 
Processe and daateof tyme oute of mynde, 
Recorde of cronycles, witnesse of hir 

kuynde ; 
Wherfore the kyng wol al this nexst yeere 
That wyves fraunchyse stonde hoole and 

entier; 
And that no man withstonde it, ne with- 

drawe, 240 

Til man may fynde some processe oute by 

lawe, 
That they should by nature in thejTe lyves 
Have soverayntee on theyre prudent wyves — 
A thing unkouthe, which was never founde. 
Let men be ware, therfore. or they beo 

bonnde. 
The bonde is harde, who soo that lookethe 

weel. 
Some men were lever fetterd beon in steel ; 
Raunsoun might help his pejTie to aswaagr ; 
But who is wedded lyvethe ever in servage; 
And I knowe never nowher, for ner near, 
Man that was gladde to bynde him prys- 

onier, 251 

Thoughte that his prysoun, his castell, or 

his holde, 
Wer depeynted with asure or with golde. 
Explicit. 



THE LEGEND OF DAN JOOS^ 

O WELLE of swetnesse replete in every 

veyne ! 
That all mankynde preservyd hast from 

dethe, 
And all on re ioy fro langoiir dydest restreyne 
At thy Nativite, O floure of Nazareth! 
Whan the Holygost with hys swete breth 

» distaffs. 2 weighing. 

» From H. N. MacCracken's edition of the Minor 
Poe»!.5, Early English Text Soc, 1911, with a few changes 
in typography and punctuation. A good example of Lyd- 
gate's sacred verse. 



Gan to enspyre the, as for hys chosyn place. 
For love of man by influence of hys grace. 

And were invyolate, O bryght hevynly 

sterre! 
Mong celestynes, reynyng without memory, 
That by thyne empryse in thys mortal! 

werre, 10 

Of oure captyvyte gatest the full vyctory, 
Whom I beseche for thyne excellent glory, 
Som drope of thy grace adowne to me con- 

styll,4 
In reverence of the thys dyte to fulfyll. 

That ounely my rewdenes thy myracle nat 
deface 

Whyche whylom sendest in a devoute ab- 
bey. 

Of an hooly monke thorough thy myght 
& grace, 

That of all pyte berest bothe lok and key, 

For, benynge lady, the sothe of thee to sey. 

Full well thow quytyst that done thee love 
and serve 20 

An hundryd sythys^ bettyr then they de- 



Ensample of whyche here ys in portreture, 
Withoutyn fable, ryght as hit was in dede, 
O refuge and weltlie to every creature! 
Thy clerke to further helpe now at thys 

nede. 
For to my purpose I wyll anone procede, 
The trowthe to recorde, I wyll no lengor 

tary, 
Ryght as hit was, a poynt I wyll nat vary. 

Vincencius in hys speculatyf historiall ^ 
Of thys sayde monke maketh full mensioim. 
Under the fourme to yow, as I reherse 

shall, 31 

That by a gardeyne as he romyd up and 

doune 
He heerd a bysshop of fame & gret re- 

noune 
Seying v. psalmes in honour of that flowre. 
That bare lesu Cryst oure altber redemp- 

toure." 

In whiche Psalmes, standyng eche in here 

degre. 
Whoso lyst take hede in syngler lettres 

fyve, 

4 distil. 5 times. « Vincent of Beauvais' Specu- 
lum HistoricUe. ^ Redeemer of us all. 



228 



JOHN LYDGATE 



This blessyd name Maria there may he se 
That furst of all oure thraldam can de- 

pryve, 
To the haven of dethe when we gan ar- 

ryve, ^ 40 

And fro the wawes ^ of this mortall see, 
Made us to escape from all adversite. 

Dystynctly in Latyn here may ye rede 

echone, 
Folowyng these baladys as for youre ples- 

aunce, 
To whom the bysshop hade sayde hys medi- 

tacione, 
The monke anone delytyd in his remem- 

braunce, 
And thought he wold as for his most affi- 

aunce 
Cotydyally ^ with hem oonly oure lady plese, 
That fro all grevaunce hys sorowes myght 

appese. 

And there withall he wrote hem in hys 
mynde, 50 

So stedfastly with devoute and hy corage, 
That never a day a worde he foryate be- 

hynde, 
But seyde hem entyerly in-to hys last age, 
Hys olde gyltes bothe to a soft^ and swage ^ 
Af tyr hyr matyns, as was hys appetyte. 
To sey hem ever was hys most delyte. 

Therto his dylygence with all hys hert & 

myght. 
And f orthe contynuyd in his devoutest wyse, 
Tyll at last hit befell apon a nyght 
The hoole Covent at mydnyght gan aryse. 
As ys here usage, to do to God servyse. 61 
So when they were assemblyd there in gen- 

erall, 
The suppryour beholdyng aboute over all, 

As ys hys offyce that noone of theym were 

absent. 
But of Dan loos he cowde no wyse aspy, 
He roose hym up and privyly he went 
In-to hys chambre, and there he fond hym ly 
Deede as a stoone, and lowde he gan to 

cry 
* Helpe,' quoth he, * for the love of cure 

lady bryght, 
Dan loos oure brother ys sodenly dede to- 

nyght.' 70 



» waves. 

8 Construction not clear. 



2 Daily. 
* assuage. 



The covent anone gan renne halfe in a drede, 
Tyll they had behylde, when passyd was 

here afray, 
Owte of hys mow the a roose boothe sprang 

and sprede, 
Fresshe in his coloure as any floure in May; 
And other tweyne out of his eyen gray; 
Of hyseares as many full f resshly tlowryng 
That never yet in gardyne half so feyre 

gan spryng. 

Thys rody roose they have so long beholde 
That sprang for his mowthe, tyll they have 

espyed 
Full fayre graven, in lettres of bornyd^ 

golde, 80 

Marie full curyously as hit ys specyfyed, 
In bookes oolde; and anone they have hem 

hyed 
Unto the temple, with lawde & hye solemp- 

nyte, 
Beryng the corse that all men myght hit se. 

Whyche they kepte in ryalte & hy perfec- 
cioune 

Sevyn dayes in the tempel there beyng 
present, 

Tyll thre bysshops of fame & gret renoune 

Were comyn thedyr, ryght with devout en- 
tent. 

And many another clerk with hem by oon 
assent. 

To se thys myracle of thys lady bryght 90 

Seying in thys wyse, with all her ^ hert and 
myght: 

* Lawde, honour, pryce, and hygh reverence 

Eternally be to thee, O hevynly luge. 

And to thy modyr that of her gret benyvo- 
lence 

Preserveth from hevynes, in this derke del- 
uge. 

That ^ doone her magnyfy, and ys her hoole 
refuge ; 

More then they serve ^ sche quyteth a thow- 
sand folde, 

Hyr passyng goodnes of us may nat be 
tolde.' 

Thus when these bysshops & clerkis many 

oon 99 

Had thankyd God, as ferforth as they can. 

And thys lady that hathe thys grace 

ydoon, 

5 burnished. 6 their. ^ Those that. 8 deserve. 



THE LEGEND OF DAN JOOS 



229 



So full of ioy and blysse was every man 
Of thys myracle, that syth the world began 
Yet herde I never in roundell,i prose ne 

ryme, 
Of halfe the gladnes Jjat was withyu hem 

that tyme. 

Sone af tyr thys her iorney gan they holde, 

Eche in hys syde,^ in-to hys propre place. 

Ryght as they f onde overall so have they 
tolde 

Of thys holy Monke, O lady full of grace! 

Now well ys hym, that can hys hert en- 
brace, no 

To love the best and chaunge for no new, 

That art so feythf uU thow canst nat be un- 
trew. 

O ye fressche lovers, that lyvyn ever in 

doublenesse, 
And hurt your-self full oft with your owne 

knyfe, 
Your wofull ioy ys medlyd ^ ay with byttyr- 

nesse. 
Now glad, now sory, now lyte, now pen- 

syfe. 
Thus with your-self ye fall ever at stryfe, 
Betwene two wawes ay possyd ^ to and fro, 
That in contrary osnes ye stryvyn evyr mo. 

Youre blynde fantasyes now in hertes 
weyve,^ 120 

Of chyldysshe vanyte and let hem over- 
slyde. 



1 song. 

8 min gl 



2 in his own direction. 
* pushed. 6 give up. 



And loveth this lady, that can nowyse de- 

ceyve, 
She ys so stedfast of hert in every syde, 
That for your nedys so modyrly can pro- 

vyde 
And for your poysy these lettres fyye ye 

take, 
Of thys name Maria oouly for hys sake. 

That for youre travayle so well [will] yow 

avaunce, 
Nat as these wemen on the ^ whyche ye doon 

delyte. 
That fedyn yow all day with feynyd pleas- 

aunce, 
Hyd undyr tresoun with many wordys 

whyte, 130 

But bet then ye deserve she woll yow 

quyte, 
And for ye shall nat labour all in veyne, 
Ye shall have heven; there ys nomore to 

seyne; 

Whos passyng goodnes may nat be compre- 

hendyd, 
In mannys prudence fully to determyne, 
She ys so parfyte she cannat be amendyd, 
That ay to mercy and pyty doth enclyne. 
Now benygne lady that dedyst oure sorowes 

fyne 
In honour of the that done thy psalraes 

rede 
As was Dan loos, so quyte hem for theyre 

mede. 140 

Amen. 

t yein MacCracken. 



I 



JOHN SKELTON 



PHILIP SPARROWi 

Pla ce bo,^ 

Who is there, who ? 

Di le xi,^ 

Dame Margery; 

Fa, re, ray, my, 

Wherefore and why, why ? 

For the soul of Philip Sparrow, 

That was late slain at Carow, 

Among the Nunes Black, 

For that sweet soul's sake, lo 

'And for all sparrows' souls, 

Set in our beadroUs, 

Pater noster qui. 

With an Ave Man, 

And with the corner of a Creed, 

The more shall be your meed. 

Whan I remember again 
How my Philip was slain. 
Never half the pain 
Was between you twain, 20 

Piramus and Thisbe, 
As than befell to me: 
I wept and I wailed, 
The tears down hailed; 
But nothing it availed; 
To call Philip again. 
Whom Gib our cat hath slain. 

Gib, I say, our cat 
Worrowed ^ her on that 
Which I loved best: 30 

It can not be expressed 
My sorrowful heaviness, 
But all without redress; 
For within that stound, 
Half slumbring, in a swound 
I fell down to the ground. 

1 This sparkling piece is an elegy for the fleath of 
Mistress Jane Scrope's pet sparrow. Such mock ele- 
gies, though shorter, had been in vogue since Catullus' 
lament for his Lesbia's sparrow (c. 60 B.C.), and very 
likely for longer; and such travesties of church rites 
were far from rare in the Middle Ages. The small 
nunnery of the Benedictines at Carow, near Norwich, 
was probably a sort of boarding-school where Jane and 
the other well-to-do young ladies of the neighbourhood 
were educated. 

2 So begins a verse in the Office for the Dead — 
Psalms cxvi (Vulgate cxiv), 9. 

3 Psalms, cxvi, 1. Of. last note. < worried. 



Unneth ^ I kest mine eyes 
Toward the cloudy skies: 
But whan I did behold 
My sparrow dead aud cold, 40 

No creature but that wold 
Have rewed ^ upon me, 
To behold and see 
What heaviness did me pang; 
Wherewith ray hands I wrang. 
That my sinews cracked. 
As though I had been racked. 
So pained and so strained. 
That no life wellnigh remained. 

I sighed and I sobbed, 50 

For that I was robbed 
Of my sparrow's life. 
O maiden, widow, and wife, 
Of what estate ye be, 
Of high or low degree. 
Great sorrow than ye might see 
And learn to weep af^ me ! 
Such pains did me freat,^ 
That mine heart did beat, 
My visage pale and dead, 60 

Wan, and blue as lead; 
The pangs of hateful death 
Wellnigh had stopped my breath. 

Heu, heu, me, 
That I am woe for thee ! 
Ad Dominum, cum trihularer, clamaui.^ 
Of God nothing else crave I 
But Philip's soule to keep 
From the marees ^^ deep 
Of Acheroutes well, 70 

That is a flood of Hell; 
And from the great Pluto, 
The prince of endless woe; 
And from foul Alecto, 
With visage black and bio ; ^^ 
And from Medusa, that mare,^^ 
That like a fiend doth stare : 
And from Megeras edders,i^ 
For ruffling of Philip's feathers, 
And from her fiery sparklings, ^° 

From burning of his wings; 

8 With difficulty. 6 had pity. '' from. 8 fret, gnaw. 

9 I cried unto the Lord when I was in trouble. 

10 marah. " blue. 12 spectre. " adders. 



PHILIP SPARROW 



231 



And from the smokes sour 


Lord, how he would pry 


Of Proserpina's bower; 


After the butterfly! 


And from the deus dark, 


Lord, how he would hop 


Where Cerberus doth bark, 


After the grasshop ! 


Whom Theseus did affray, 


And whan I said, Phip, Phip, 


Whom Hercules did outray,i 


Than he would leap and skip, 


As famous poets say; 


And take me by the lip. 140 


From that hell hound, 


Alas, it will me slo,''^ 


That lieth in chaines bound, ^ 


That Philip is gone me fro J 


With ghastly heades three. 


Sin in i qui ta tes 


To Jupiter pray we 


Alas, I was evil at ease ! 


That Philip preserved may be ! 


De pro fun dis da ma vi, 


Amen, say ye with me ! 


When I saw my sparrow die! 


Do mi nus, 


Now, after my dome,^ 


Help now, sweet Jesus ! 


Dame Sulpicia,^ at Rome, 


Levavi oculos meos in montes : ^ 


Whose name registered wa^ 


Wolde God I had Zeuophontes,^ 


For ever in tables of brass, 150 


Or Socrates the wise. 


Because that she did pass 


To shew me their devise, 1^*^ 


In poesy to endite. 


Moderately to take 


And eloquently to write. 


This sorrow that I make 


Though she would pretend 


For Philip Sparrow's sake ! 


My sparrow to commend. 


So fervently I shake, 


I trow she could not amend 


I feel my body quake ; 


Reporting the virtues all 


So urgently I am brought 


Of my sparrow royal. 


Into careful thought.^ 


For it would come and go, 


Like Andromach, Hector's wife, 


And fly so to and fro; i6o 


Was weary of her life. 


And on me it would leap 


When she had lost her joy, i^o 


When I was asleep. 


Noble Hector of Troy; 


And his feathers shake. 


In like manner also 


Wherewith he would make 


Encreaseth my deadly woe, 


Me often for to wake. 


For my sparrow is go. 


And for to take him in 


It was so pretty a fool, 


Upon my naked skin; 


It wold sit on a stool. 


God wot, we thought no sin: 


And learned after my school 


What though he crept so low ? 


For to keep his cut ,5 


It was not liurt, I trow; 170 


With, Philip, keep your cut ! 


He did nothing perdie 


It had a velvet cap, 120 


But sit upon my knee, 


And would sit upon my lap. 


Philip, though he were nice, 


And seek after small worms. 


In him it was no vice; 


And sometime white bread crumbs; 


Philip had leave to go 


And many times and oft 


To pick my little toe ; 


Between my breastes soft 


Philip might be bold 


It would lie and rest; 


And do what he wold; 


It was proper and prest.^ 


Philip would seek and take 


Sometime he would gasp 


All the fleas black 180 


When he saw a wasp; 


That he could there espy 


A fly or a gnat, "^^ 


With his wanton eye. 


He would fly at that; 


pe ra, 


And prettily he would pant 


La, soil, fa, fa. 


When he saw an ant; 


Conjitebor tibi, Domine, in toto corde meo. 




Alas, I would ride and go 


i vanquish. 2 I lifted mine eyes unto the moun- 




tains. 3 Xenophon. * melancholy. 5 distance. 


7 slay. 8 judgment. 


6 clean and tidy. 


8 An amorous poetess of Domitian's reign. 



232 



JOHN SKELTON 



A thousand mile of ground ! 


The best now that 1 may, 


If any such might be found, 


Is for his soul to pray : 


It were worth an hundred pound 


A porta inferi, 


Of king Croesus' gold, 190 


Good Lord, have mercy 240 


Or of Attains the old, 


Upon my sparrow's soul. 


The rich prince of Fargamee,i 


Written in my beadroU ! 


Who so list the story to see. 


Au di vi vo cem, 


Cadmus, that his sister "^ sought, 


Japhet, Cam, and Sem,"^ 


And he should be bought 


Ma gniji cat, 


For gold and fee. 


Shew me the right path 


He should over the sea, 


To the hills of Armony,8 


To wete ^ if he could bring 


Wherefore the birds yet cry ® 


Any of the offspring, 


Of your father's boat, 


Or any of the blood. ^ 200 


That was sometime afloat, 250 


But whoso understood 


And now they lie and rot. 


Of Medea's art, 


Let some poets write 


I would I had a part 


Deucalion's flood it hight ; 


Of her crafty magic ! 


But as verily as ye be 


My sparrow then should be quick 


The natural sones three 


With a charm or twain, 


Of Noe the patriarch, 


And play with me again. 


That made that great ark, 


But all this is in vain 


Wherein he had apes and owls, 


Thus for to complain. 


Beasts, birds, and fowls. 


I took my sampler once, a 10 


That if ye can find 260 


Of purpose, for the nonce, 


Any of my sparrow's kind, 


To sew with stitches of silk 


God send the soul good rest 1 


My sparrow white as milk, 


I would have yet a nest 


That by representation 


As pretty and as prest 1*^ 


Of his image and fashion. 


As my sparrow was. 


To me it might import 


But my sparrow did pass 


Some pleasure and comfort 


All the sparrows of the wood 


For my solace and sport: 


That were since Noe's flood, 


But when I was sewing his beak, 


Was never none so good ; 


Methought my sparrow did speak, 220 


King Philip of Macedon. 270 


And opened his pretty bill. 


Had no such Philip as I, 


Saying, ' Maid, ye are in will ^ 


No, no, sir, hardely.^^ 


Again me for to kill. 


That vengeance I ask and cry, 


Ye prick me in the head ! ' 


By way of exclamation. 


With that my needle waxed red. 


On all the whole nation 


Methought, of Philip's blood; 


Of cats wild and tame; 


Mine hair right upstood, 


God send them sorrow and shame ! 


And was in such affray,® 


That cat specially 


My speech was taken away. 


That slew so cruelly 


I cast down that there was, 230 


My little pretty sparrow 280 


And said, ' Alas, alas. 


That I brought up at Carow. 


How cometh this to pass ? ' 


cat of carlishi2kind. 


My fingers, dead and cold. 


The fiend was in thy mind 


Could not my sampler hold; 


When thou my bird untwined ! ^^ 


My needle and thread 


I would thou haddest been blind ! 


I threw away for dread. 


The leopards savage. 




The lions in their rage. 


1 Pergamus. 2 Europa. s know. 


4 This appears to mean: If Cadmus, the great 


1 Ham and Shem. 


searcher, could by any means be had, over the sea he 


8 Armenia, where the ark grounded. 


should be sent in order to seek the offspring or blood 


9 Text doubtful ; possibly we should read "whereon 


relations of my lost sparrow ; so that I might keep up 


the hordes yet lye." Dyce. 


the prized stock. s intending. 6 fright. 


10 tidy. n certainly. 12 churlish. " kUled. 



PHILIP SPARROW 



233 



Might catch thee in their paws, 


These villanous false cats 


And gnaw thee in their jaws ! 


Were made for mice and rats, 


The serpents of Libany 1 290 


And not for birdes small. 340 


Might sting thee venomously! 


Alas, my face waxeth pale, 


The dragons with their tongues 


Telling this piteous tale, 


Might poison thy liver and lungs! 


How my bird so fair. 


The manticors ^ of the mountains 


That was wont to repair, 


Might feed them on thy brains! 


And go in at my spare,^ 


Melanchates,^ that hound 


And creep in at my gore ® 


That plucked Acteon to the ground, 


Of my gown before, 


Gave him his mortal wound, 


Flickering with his wings. 


Changed to a deer, 


Alas, my heart it stings, 


The story doth appear, 300 


Remembring pretty things! 350 


Was changed to an hart: 


Alas, mine heart it slavth. 


So thou, foul cat that thou art 


My Philip's doleful death, 


The self same hound 


When I remember it, 


Might thee confound. 


How prettily it would sit, 


That his own lord bote,^ 


Many times and oft 


Might bite asunder thy throat! 


Upon my finger aloft ! 


Of Inde the greedy gripes ^ 


I played with him tittle tattle. 


Might tear out all thy tripes! 


And fed him with my spattle,!*^ 


Of Arcady the bears 


With his bill betweene my lips; 


Might pluck away thine ears! 310 


It was my pretty Phipps! 360 


The wi d wolf Lycaon ^ 


Many a pretty kuss ^^ 


Bite asimder thy backbone! 


Had I of his sweet muss;!^ 


Of Etna the brenning hill, 


And now the cause is thus, 


That day and night brenneth still 


That he is slain me fro. 


Set in thy tail a blaze. 


To my great pain and woe. 


That all the world may gaze 


Of Wtune this the chance 


And wonder upon thee. 


Standeth on variance: 


From Ocean the great sea 


Oft time after pleasance 


Unto the Isles of Orcady, 


Trouble and grievance; 


From Tilbury Ferry 320 


No man can be sure 370 


To the plain of Salisbury! 


Alway to have pleasure: 


So traitorously my bird to kill 


As well perceive ye may 


That never ought' thee evil will! 


How my disport and play 


Was never bird in cage 


From me was taken away 


More gentle of courage 


By Gib, our cat savage. 


In doing his homage 


That in a furious rage 


Unto his sovereign. 


Caught Philip by the head. 


Alas, I say again, 


And slew him there stark dead. 


Death hath departed us twain! 


Kyrie, elevion, 


The false cat hath thee slam: 330 


Christe, eleison, 380 


Farewell, Philip, adieu ! 


Kyrie, eleison ! i^ 


Our Lord thy soul rescue ! 


For Philip Sparrow's soul, 


Farewell without restore, 


Set in our beadroll. 


Farewell for evermore! 


Let us now whisper 


And it were a Jew, 


A Pater noster. 


It would make one rue, 


Lauda, anima mea, Dominum!'^* 


To see my sorrow new. 


To weep with me look that ye come. 




All manner of birds in your kind; 
See none be left behind. 


1 Libya. 2 An extraordinary fabulous beast. 
3 So the foremost hound is named in Ovid's Meta- 


morphoses, in, 232. 


8 slit in the top of a skirt. » opening in the breast. 


4 bit. 5 griflBns, or vultures. 


10 spittle. 11 kiss. 12 beak, mouth. 


6 A king of Arcadia transformed into a wolf. Ovid's 


13 Part of the Mass— " Lord (Christ), have mercy ! " 


Metamorphoses^ i, 163. "> owed. 


1* Praise the Lord, oh my soul. 



234 



JOHN SKELTON 



To mourning look that ye fall 390 


The peacock so proud. 


With dolorous songs funeral, 


Because his voice is loud, 


Some to sing, and some to say, 


And hath a glorious tail, 440 


Some to weep, and some to pray, 


He shall sing the grail; ^^ 


Every bird in his lay. 


The owl, that is so foul, 


The goldfinch, the wagtail; 


Must help us to howl; 


The jangling jay to rail, 


The heron so gaunce ^^ 


The flecked pye to chatter 


And the cormoraunce,^*^ 


Of this dolorous matter; 


With the pheasant. 


And robin redbreast, 


And the gaggling gant ^i 


He shall be the priest 400 


And the churlish chough; 


The requiem mass to sing, 


The route 22 and the kowgh;23 


Softly warbeling. 


The barnacle,24 the buzzard, 450 


With help of the red sparrow, 


With the wild mallard; 


And the chatt'ring swallow, 


The divendop25 to sleep; 


This hearse ^ for to hallow ; 


The water-hen to weep; 


The lark with his long toe; 


The puffin and the teal 


The spink,2 and the martinet ^ also; 


Money they shall deal 


The shoveler^ with his broad beak; 


To poor folk at large, 


The doterell,^ that foolish peak,^ 


That shall be their charge; 


And also the mad coot, 410 


The seamew and the titmose; ^ 


With a bald face to toot; 


The woodcock with the long nose ; 


The feldfare, and the snite;^ 


The threstle with her warbling; 460 


The crow, and the kite; 


The starling with her brabbling ; ^^ 


The raven, called Rolfe, 


The rook, with the osprey 


His plain-song to solf e ; ^ 


That putteth fishes to affray; 


The partridge, the quail; 


And the dainty curlew, 


The plover with us to wail; 


With the turtle most true. 


The woodhaek,^ that singeth chur 


At this Placebo 


Hoarsely, as he had the murr^*^ 


We may not well forego 


The lusty chanting nightingale ; 420 


The countring of the coe:^^ 


The popingay,!! to tell her tale. 


The stork also, 


That toteth 12 oft in a glass. 


That maketh his nest 470 


Shall read the Gospel at mass; 


In chimneys to rest; 


The mavis with her whistle 


Within those walls 


Shall read there the pistle.i^ 


No broken galls 


But with a large and a long ^^ 


May there abide 


To keep just plain-song. 


Of cuckoldry side, 


Our chanters shall be the cuckoo, 


Of else philosophy 


The culver,i5 the stockdove, 


Maketh a great lie.^^ 


With pewit the lapwing, 430 


The estrige,3o that will eat 


The versicles shall sing. 


An horseshoe so great, 


The bitter with his bump,!^ 


In the stead of meat, 480 


The crane with his trump, 


Such fervent heat 


The swan of Menander,!^ 


His stomack doth freat;^! 


The goose and the gander, 


He can not well fly, 


The duck and the drake. 


Nor sing tunably. 


Shall watch at this wake; 


18 gradual, so called because sung at the altar steps. 




19 gaunt. 20 cormorant. 21 cackling gannet. 


1 bier. 2 chaffinch. 3 martin. * spoonbill duck. 


22 wild goose ? Cf. New Eng. Diet., rout, sb. 7. 


6 A sort of plover easily captured. 6 dolt. ' snipe. 


23 Variant of chough, i.e. another of the crow family? 


8 solf a, i. e., sing the scale. » woodpecker. 


24 barnacle goose. 25 dabchick or didapper. Liter- 


10 a cold. 11 parrot. 12 peeks. i3 epistle. " one 


ally "diver-and-dipper." 


large note contained two lo7igs. is wood-pigeon. 


26 The proper form of titmouse. 27 scolding. 


16 The bittern, who makes a bumping or booming 


28 Apparently the jackdaw, chough — or one of his 


noise. 


relatives — yet a third time in this list ! 


" This stands for the river Meander here and else- 


29 Where storks nest there can be no marital infidelity. 


where in Skeltott 


30 ostrich. 3i fret, bite. Skelton spells it aXso frete. 



PHILIP SPARROW 



235 



510 



Yet at a braid 1 

He hath well assayed 

To solfe above ela,^ 

Ga, lorell,^ fa, fa; 

Ne quando 

Male cantando, 490 

The best that we can, 

To make him our bellman, 

And let him ring the bells; 

He can do nothing else.^ 

Chaunteclere, our cock. 
Must tell what is of the clock 
By the astrology 
That he hath naturally 
Conceived and caught, 
And was never taught 500 

By Albumazer^ 
The astronomer, 
Nor by Ptolemy ^ 
Prince of astronomy, 
Nor yet by Haly ; "^ 
And yet he croweth daily 
And nightly the tides 
That no man abides, 
With Partlot his hen. 
Whom now and then 
He plucketh by the head 
Whan he doth her tread. 

The bird of Araby, 
That potentially 
May never die. 
And yet there is none 
But one alone; 
A phoenix it is 
This hearse ^ that must bliss 
With aromatic gums 520 

That cost great sums, 
The way of thurification ^ 
To make a fumigation, 
Sweet of reflair,!^ 
And redolent of air. 
This corse for to cense 
With great reverence, 
As patriarch or pope 
In a black cope ; 

Whiles he censeth the herse, 530 

He shall sing the verse, 
Libera me, 
In de, la, soil, re, 

1 at a pinch. 2 To sing above the highest note 

in the scale. 3 rogue. 

* Alluding to some popular saying like " who cannot 
sing, let him ring." 

6 An Arabian of the ninth century. 

* Of the celebrated Ptolemaic sj'stem. 

"> Another great Arabian astronomer of c. 1100. 

8 bier. « censing, incense-burning. i" perfume. 



Softly bemole,ii 

For my sparrow's soid. 

Pliny sheweth all 

In his story natural ^ 

What he doth find 

Of the phoenix kind; 

Of whose incineration 540 

There riseth a new creation 

Of the same fashion 

Without alteration, 

Saving that old age 

Is turned into courage 

Of fresh youth again; 

This matter true and plain, 

Plain matter indeed. 

Whoso list to read. 

But for the eagle doth fly 550 

Highest in the sky, 
He shall be the sedean,!^ 
The quere ^^ to demean,i^ 
As provost principal, 
To teach them their ordinal; 
Also the noble falcon ^^ 
With the ger falcon ^'^ 
The tercel gentle,^^ 
They shall mourn soft and still 
In their amice ^^ of gray ; 560 

The sacre ^^ with them sliall say 
Dirige, for Philip's soul; 
The goshawk 21 shall have a roll 
The queresters to control; 
The lanners ^- and the merlions^* 
Shall stand in their mourning gowns; 
The hobby ^'■■^ and the musket ^- 
The censers and the cross shall fet; ^^ 
The kestrel ^^ in all tliis work 
Shall be holy-water clerk. 570 

And now the dark cloudy night 
Chaseth away Phebus bright. 
Taking his course toward the west, 
God send my sparrow's soul good rest! 
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine I 
Fa_, fa, fa, my, re, re, 
A por ta in fe ri, 
Fa, fa, fa, my, my. 

Credo videre bona Domini^ 
I pray God, Phihp to heaven may fly! 580 

" Flat. 

12 Pliny's Natural History, Bk. X, § 2. " subdean. 
1^ choir. 15 conduct. '^ peregrine falcon. 
1" The great white or gray Norway falcon. 

18 The male of a peregrine falcon. 

19 One of the priest's vestments. 

20 A somewhat smaller falcon. 

21 large, short-winged hawk. 

22 These are all lesser kinds of hawks and falcons. 

23 fetch. 



236 



JOHN SKELTON 



Domine, exaudi orationem meam ! 


With his knights commendable, 




To heaven he shall, from heaven he 


And dame Gaynour,i his queen, 




came ! 


Was somewhat wanton, I ween; 




Do mi nus vo his cum ! 


How Sir Lancelot de Lake 




Of all good prayers God send him some ! 


Many a spear brake 




Or emus. 


For his lady's sake; 


640 


Deus, cui,proprium est misererietparcere^ 


Of Tristram, and King Mark, 




On Philip's soul have pity ! 


And all the whole wark 2 




For he was a pretty cock, 


Of Bele Isold his wife, 




And came of a gentle stock, 


From whom was miich strife; 




And wrapt in a maiden's smock, 590 


Some say she was light, 




And cherished full daintily, 


And made her husband knight 




Till cruel fate made him to die. 


Of the common hall, 




Alas, for doleful destiny 1 


That cuckolds men call; 




But whereto should I 


And of Sir Lybius, 




Lenger mourn or cry ? 


Named Disconius;^ 


650 


To Jupiter I call, 


Of Quater Filz Amund,^ 




Of heaven emperial. 


And how they were summoned 




That Philip may fly 


To Rome, to Charlemagne, 




Above the starry sky. 


Upon a great pain. 




To tread the pretty wren, 600 


And how they rode each one 




That is our Lady's hen: 


On Bayard Mountalbon ; ^ 




Amen, amen, amen! 


Men see him now and then 




Yet one thing is behind, 


In the forest of Arden : 




That now cometh to mind; 


What though I can frame 




An epitaph, I would have 


The stories by name 


660 


For Philip's grave: 


Of Judas Maccabeus, 




But for I am a maid, 


And of Caesar Julius; 




Timorous, half afraid. 


And of the love between 




That never yet assayed 


Paris and Vienne ; ^ 




Of Helicones well, 610 


And of the Duke Hannibal, 




Where the Muses dwell; 


That made the Romans all 




Though I can read and spell, 


For dread and to quake; 




Recount, report, and tell 


How Scipion did wake "^ 




Of the Tales of Canterbury, 


The city of Carthage, 




Some sad stories, some merry 


Which by his unmerciful rage 


670 


As Palamon and Arcet, 


He beat down to the ground: 




Duke Theseus, and Partelet; 


And though I can expound 




And of the Wife of Bath, 


Of Hector of Troy, 




That worketh much scath 


That was all their joy. 




When her tale is told 620 


Whom Achilles slew, 




Among husewives bold. 


Wherefore all Troy did rue; 




How she controlled 


And of the love so bote 




Her husbands as she wold, 


That made Troilns to dote 




And them to despise 


Upon fair Cressid, 




In the homliest wise, 


And what they wrote and said. 


680 


Bring other wives in thought 


And of their wanton wills 




Their husbands to set at nought; 


Pandare bare the bills 




And though that read have I 
Of Gawain and Sir Guy, 


1 Guinevere. * work. 

3 The English romance of lAbeaus Desconus{The'Eaa 


And tell can a great piece 630 


Unknown) may be found in Ritson's Metrical Romances, 


Of the Golden Fleece, 


vol. 2. 

* Les Quatre Fils Aimon is a thirteenth-century cAaTi- 


How Jason it wan. 


son de geste, of which Caxton printed a prose version. 


Like a valiant man; 


B The celebrated steed Bayard of Montauban, 


who on 


this occasion carried all the four brothers at once. 


Of Arthur's round table, 


6 Caxton printed this prose romance. ^ 


watch. 



PHILIP SPARROW 



237 



From one to the other; 


That she was true and just 730 


His master's love to further, 


For any bodily lust 


Sometime a precious thing, 


To Ulysses her make,"^ 


An ouche,! or else a ring; 


And never would him forsake: 


From her to him again 


Of Marcus Marcellus ^ 


Sometime a pretty chain, 


A process^ I could tell us; 


Or a bracelet of her hair, 


And of Antiochus;!*^ 


Prayed Troilus for to wear 690 


And of Josephus 


That token for her sake ; 


De Antiquitatihus /^^ 


How heartily he did it take, 


And of Mardocheus,i2 


And much thereof did make. 


And of great Assuerus, 740 


And all that was in vain, 


And of Vesca his queen, 


For she did but feign; 


Whom he forsook with teen,i3 


The story telleth plain, 


And of Hester his other wife. 


He could not obtain, 


With whom he led a pleasant life; 


Though his father were a king. 


Of king Alexander; 


Yet there was a thing 


And of king Evander;!^ 


That made the male to wring ; ^ 700 


And of Porsena 1° the great, 


She made him to sing 


That made the Romans to sweat: 


The song of lovers' lay;^ 


Though I have enrolled 


Musing night and day, 


A thousand new and old 750 


Mourning all alone, 


Of these historious tales, 


Comfort he had none, 


To fill budgets and males ^^ 


For she was quite gone; 


With books that I have read, 


Thus in conclusion, 


Yet I am nothing sped, 


She brought him in abusion; 


And can but little skill 


In earnest and in game 


Of Ovid or Virgil, 


She was much to blame; 710 


Or of Plutarch, 


Disparaged is her fame, 


Or Francis Petrarch, 


And blemished is her name. 


Alceus or Sappho, 


In manner half with shame; 


Or such other poets mo,i'^ 760 


Troilus also hath lost 


As Linus and Homerus, 


On her much love and cost. 


Euphorion and Theocritus, 


And now must kiss the post; * 


Anacreon and Arion, 


Pandare, that went between. 


Sophocles and Philemon, 


Hath won nothing, I ween. 


Pindarus and Simonides, 


But light for summer green; ^ 


Philistion and Phorocides; ^^ 


Yet for a special laud 720 


These poets of auncienty, ^^ 


He is named Troilus' bawd, 


They are too diffuse for me: 


Of that name he is sure 


For, as I tofore have said, 


Whiles the world shall dure: 


I am but a young maid, 770 


Though I remember the fable 


And cannot in effect 


Of Penelope most stable 


My style as yet direct 


To her husband most true 


With English words elect: 


Yet long time she ne knew 


Our natural tongue is rude, 


Whether he were on live ^ or dead; 


And hard to be enneude-"^ 


Her wit stood her in stead. 


? mate. 8 Ofttimes consul, conqueror of Sjrracuse, 




slain by Hannibal, 208 B.C. » story. 


1 jewel, ornament. 


10 See Confessio AnunUis, Bk. vra, 271 ff., and Shake- 


2 This popular expression appears to mean *' cause 


speare's Pericles. 


trouble." 


n The Jewish Antiquities, Josephus's great chronicle. 


8 Lovers' law (Dyce), or lovers' tune — the lovers 


12 Mordecai, with Ahasuerus, Yashti, and Esther. 


being of course jilted. 


13 annoyance. 


* lose, fail — a popular saying. 


" The friend of ^neas in Bk. vra, 1. 51. 


* Obscure. A light-f or-summer, green fabric ? Chau- 


15 The Etruscan who conquered Rome. 


cer's poorly clad Canon rode "all light for summer," 


16 mails, i.e., bags. i7 more, is Pherecydes, early 


Prologue to Canon's Yeoman's Tale, 1. 16. Green is 


Greek philosopher. 1 antiquity. 


the color of inconstancy. e alive. 


20 adorned, from en- and Fr. nuer, to tint. 



238 



JOHN SKELTON 



W 



790 



With polished terms lusty; 

Our language is so rusty, 

So cankered, and so full 

Of frowards/ and so dull, 

That if I would apply 780 

To write ornately, 

1 wot not where to find 

Terms to serve my mind 

Gower's English is old, 
And of no value told; 
His matter is worth gold. 
And worthy to be enrolled. 

In Chaucer I am sped, 
His tales I have read: 
His matter is delectable, 
Solacious,"^ and commendable; 
His English well allowed,^ 
So as it is enprowed,^ 
For as it is employed. 
There, is no English void,^ 
At those days much commended; 
And now men would have amended 
His English, whereat they bark, 
And mar all they wark: 
Chaucer, that famous clerk, 800 

His terms were not dark, 
But pleasant, easy, and plain ; 
No word he wrote in vain. 

Also John Lydgate 
Writeth after an higher rate ; ^ 
It is diffuse " to find 
The sentence ^ of his mind, 
Yet writeth he in his kind, 
No man that can amend 
Those matters that he hath penned; 810 
Yet some men find a fault, 
And say he writeth too haut.^ 

Wherefore hold me excused 
If I have not well perused 
Mine English half abused; 
Though it be refused. 
In worth ^^ I shall it take, 
And fewer wordes make. 

But, for my sparrow's sake, 
Yet as a woman may, 820 

My wit I shall assay 
An epitaph to write 
In Latin plain and light, 
Whereof the elegy 
Folio weth by and by: ^^ 

1 perversities. 2 Entertaining. ' approved. 

* improved, i.e., made good use of, received and 
treated properly. s For as Chaucer employed it, no 

English is lacking, there is no flaw in the language. 
« Apparently, in a higher style. ^ uncertain, diflScult. 
8 meaning. » loftily. 10 Contentedly. " straightway. 



vale! 



830 



840 



Flos volucrum formose, 
Philippe, sub isto 
Marmore jam recubas, 
Qui mihi carus eras. 
Semper erunt nitido 
Radiantia sidera caelo; 
Impressusque meo 
Pectore semper eris. 
Per me laurigerum 
Britonum Skeltonida vatem 
Haec cecinisse licet 
Ficta sub imagine texta. 
Cujus eras volucris, 
Praestanti corpore virgo; 
Candida Nais erat, 
Formosior ista Joanna est; 
Docta Corinna fuit, 
Sed magis ista sapit. 
Bien men souient.^ 



THE TUNNING OF ELEANOR 
RUMM1NG13 

Tell you I chill,i4 

If that ye will 

A while be still. 

Of a comely gill,^^ 

That dwelt on a hill: 

But she is not grill,i^ 

For she is somewhat sage 

And well worn in age; 

For her visage 

It would assuage i 

A man's courage. 

Her loathly lere ^"^ 
Is nothing clear, 
But ugly of cheer. 
Droopy and drowsy, 
Scurvy and lousy ; 
Her face all bousy,^^ 
Comely crinkled, 
Wondrously wrinkled. 
Like a roast pig's ear, 2 

Bristled with hair. 



12 The Commendations and the Addition, about 500 
lines in all, now follow ; but they mar the poem. 

13 Tunning is brewing. For entertaining gossip con- 
cerning Eleanor see Dyce's notes. Such pictures of tav- 
ern-haunting women are common in the Middle Ages : 
the most powerfully drawn are Watriquet de Couvin's 
Trois Dames ds Paris (c. 1320) in Montaiglon and Ray- 
naud's Fabliaux, J II, 145 ; and Langland's Piers Plow- 
m,an, A text, V, 146 f ; the pleasantest is Dunbar's 
Ballad of Kind Kittok. " for Ich will, — with dia- 
lect form of the pronovm. is wench. is cross. 

17 face. 18 as of one that boozes. 



THE TUNNING OF ELEANOR RUMMING 


239 


Her nose somedeal hooked, 


Upon her brain pan. 




And camously crooked,^ 


Like an Egyptian,i^ 




Never stopping, 


Capped about : 




But ever dropping; 30 


Whan she goeth out 


80 


Her skin loose and slack, 


Herself for to shew. 




Grained like a sack; 


She driveth down the dew 




With a crooked back. 


With a pair of heels 




Her eyen goundy ^ 


As broad as two wheels; 




Are full unsoundy, 


She hobbles as a goose 




For they are bleared; 


With her blanket hose 




And she gray haired; 


Over the fallow; 




Jawed like a jetty; ^ 


Her shoon smeared with tallow, 




A man would have pity 


Greased upon dirt 




To see how she is gummed, 40 


That baudeth le her skirt. 


90 


Fingered and thumbed. 






Gently jointed, 


Primus passus 




Greased and anointed 




Up to the knuckles; 


And this comely dame. 




The bones of her buckles ^ 


1 understand, her name 




Like as they were with buckles 


Is Eleanor Rumming, 




Together made fast: 


At home in her wonning;!'^ 




Her youth is far past: 


And as men say 




Footed like a plane,^ 


She dwelt in Sothray,!^ 




Legged like a crane; 50 


In a certain stead 




And yet she will jet,® 


Beside Leatherhead. 




Like a jolly fet,' 


She is a tonnish gib; ^^ 




In ber furred flocket,^ 


The devil and she be sib. 


100 


And gray russet rocket,^ 


But to make up my tale. 




With simper the cocket.i'' 


She breweth noppy ^*^ ale. 




Her huke ^^ of Lincoln green. 


And maketh tlierof port sale 21 




It had been hers, I ween. 


To travellers, to tinkers. 




More than fourty year; 


To sweaters, to swinkers,^^ 




And so doth it appear, 


And all good ale drinkers, 




For the green bare threads 60 


That will nothing spare, 




Look like sere weeds. 


But drink till they stare 




Withered like hay. 


And bring themself bare. 




The wool worn away; 


With, Now away the mare. 


no 


And yet I dare say 


And let us slay care. 




She thinketh herself gay 


As wise as an hare ! 




Upon the holy day, 


Come who so will 




Whan she doth her array. 


To Eleanor on the hill. 




And girdeth in her gytes 12 


With, Fill the cup, fill. 




Stitched and pranked with pleats; 


And sit there by still. 




Her kirtle Bristow red, 70 


Early and late ! 




With cloths upon her head 


Thither cometh Kate, 




That weigh a sow^^ of lead, 


Cicely, and Sare, 




Writhen i^ in wonder wise, 


With their legs bare. 


120 


After the Saracens' guise. 


And also their feet 




With a whim wham. 


Hardly 23 full unsweet; 




Knit with a trim tram, 


With their heels dagged,^^ 
Their kirtles all to-jagged. 
Their smocks all to-ragged. 




» pug. Skelton himself may have had such a nose. 
See Works, vol. i, p. xlviii, n. 2. 2 gummy, bleared. 




3 That is, projecting. •» hips. 6 That is, flat-footed. 






6 strut. 7 smart young thing. « sleeved cloak. 


15 gipsy. 18 dirties. " dwelling. " Surrey. 


9 mantle. 10 Like a flirt. n cape. 12 dresses. 


" stout wench. 20 nappy. 21 public sale 




" Weighing about three hundred pounds. " Twisted. 


22 workers. 28 Certainly. 2* dirtied. 





240 



JOHN SKELTON 



With titters and tatters, 
Briiige dishes and platters, 
With all their myght running 
To Eleanor Rumniing, 
To have of her tunning: 
She leneth ^ them on tlie same, 
And thus beginneth the game. 



Tertius pa?sus 

Instead of coin and money, 
Some bring her a cony, 
And some a pot with honey, 
Some a salt, and some a spoon, 
Some their hose, some their shoon; 
Some ran a good trot 
With a skillet or a pot; 250 

Some fill their pot full 
Of good Lemster ^ wool: 
An huswife of trust. 
When she is athrust,^ 
Such a web can spin, 
Her thrift is full thin. 

Some go straight thider, 
Be it slaty or slider; ^ 
They hold the high way, 
They care not what men say, 260 

Be that as be may; 
Some, loath to be espied. 
Start in at the back side, 
Over the hedge and pale. 
And all for the good ale. 

Some run till they sweat, 
Bring with them malt or wheat, 
And dame Eleanor entreat 
To birl ^ them of the best. 

Than cometh another guest; 270 

She sweareth by the rood of rest, 
Her lips are so dry. 
Without drink she must die ; 
Therefore fill it by and by,^ 
And have here a peck of rye. 

Anon cometh another, 
As dry as the other. 
And with her doth bring 
Meal, salt, or other thing, 
Her harvest girdle, her wedding ring, 
To pay for her scot 281 

As cometh to her lot. 
Some ^ bringeth her husband's hood, 
Because the ale is good; 
Another brought her his cap 

1 lendeth. 2 Leominster. 3 athirst. 

< niiry or slippery. s pour out. ^ immediately. 

^ Literally, a certain one ; Anglo-Saxon sum,. 



To offer to the ale tap. 

With flax and with tow; 

And some brought sour dough ;8 

With hey and with how, 

Sit we down a row, 290 

And drink till we blow, 

And pipe tyrly tyrlow ! 

Some laid to pledge 
Their hatchet and their wedge, 
Their heckla^ and their reel. 
Their rock,!*^ their spinning wheel; 
And some went so narrow, 
They laid to pledge their wharrow,ii 
Their ribskin^^ and their spindle, 
Their needle and their thimble: 300 
Here was scant thrift 
Whan they made such shift. 

Their thrust ^^ was so great, 
They asked never for meat. 
But drink, still drink, 
And let the cat wink. 
Let us wash our gums 
From the dry crumbs. 



Quintus passus 

But of all this throng 
One came them among. 
She seemed half a leech, 
And began to preach 
Of the Tuesday in the week 
Whan the mare doth kick; 
Of the virtue of an unset leek; 
Of her husband's breek; ^^ 
With the feathers of a quail 
She could to Bordeaux sail; 
And with good ale barm 1° 
She could make a charm 
To help withal a stitch. 
She seemed to be a witch. 

Another brought two goslings. 
That were naughty froslings;!^ 460 
She brought them in a wallet, 
She was a comely callet: ^'^ 
The goslings were untied; 
Eleanor began to chide, 
They be wretchcocks^^ thou hast 

brought, 
They are sheer shaking nought! ^^ 



450 



8 for leaven. ^ comb for dressing flax. 10 distaff. 
11 whirl. 12 leather apron. is thirst. 1* breech. 
15 yeast, is worthless shrivelled or frostbitten things. 
" slut. 18 stunted creatures. is absolutely worth- 
less. 



COLIN CLOUT 



241 



Septimus passus 

But some then sat right sad 
That nothing had 
There of their awn,i 
Neither gelt ^ nor pawn; 610 

Such were there many 
That had not a penny, 
But, whan they should walk, 
Were fain with a chalk 
To score on the balk, 
Or score on the tail: ^ 
God give it ill hail! 
For my fingers itch; 
I have written too mytch 
Of this mad mumming. 620 

Of Eleanor Rumming, 
Thus endeth the gest 
Of this worthy fest. 

Quod^ Skeltotiy Laureate. 

COLIN CLOUTS 

What can it avail 

To drive forth a snail, 

Or to make a sail 

Of an herring's tail ? 

To rime or to rail. 

To write or to indite, 

Either for delight 

Or else for despite ? 

Or books to compile 

Of divers manner style, xo 

Vice to revile 

And sin to exile ? 

To teach or to preach, 

As reason will reach ? 

Say this, and say that, 

His head is so fat. 

He wotteth never what 

Nor wherof he speaketh; 

He crieth and he creaketh. 

He pryeth and he peeketh, 20 

He chides and he chatters, 

He prates and he patters. 

He clitters and he clatters, 

He meddles and he smatters, 

He gloses and he flatters; 

Or if he speak plain. 

Than he lacketh brain, 

» own. 2 cash. s tally. « Quoth. 

5 In this worthiest of Skelton's satires Colin Clout 
is the vagabond spokesman of the oppressed folk against 
the upstart, worldly bishops and prelates ; the dissolute, 
irresponsible, cheating nuns, monks, and friars; and 
even against the indifferent, slack people and nobles 
themselves. 



He is but a fool; 
Let him go to school, 
On a three-footed stool 
That he may down sit. 
For he lacketh wit; 
And if that he hit 
The nail on the head, 
It standeth in no stead; 
The devil, they say, is dead, 
The devil is dead. 

It may well so be. 
Or else they would see 
Otherwise, and flee 
From worldly vanity, 
And foul covetousness. 
And other wretchedness, 
Fickle falseness. 
Variableness, 
With unstableness. 

And if ye stand in doubt 
Who brought this rime about. 
My name is Colin Clout. 
I purpose to shake out 
All my cunning bag,^ 
Like a clerkly hag; 
For though my rime be ragged. 
Tattered and jagged, 
Rudely rain-beaten. 
Rusty and moth-eaten. 
If ye take well therewith. 
It hath in it some pith. 
For, as far as I can see. 
It is wrong with each degree: 
For the temporalty 
Accuseth the spiritualty; 
The spiritual again 
Doth grudge and complain 
Upon the temporal men: 
Thus each of other blether"^ 
The t'one again the t'other: 
Alas, they make me shudder! 
For in hoder moder ^ 
The Church is put in faut; ^ 
The prelates ben so haut,^® 
They say, and look so high, 
As though they would fly 
Above the starry sky. 

Laymen say indeed 
How they take no heed 
Their silly ^^ sheep to feed. 
But pluck away and pull 
The fleeces of their wool, 
Unethes ^^ they leave a lock 



30 



50 



60 



70 



80 



1 bag of learning. 7 gabble. 3 hugger-mugger. 
9 fault. 10 haughty. " innocent. 12 scarcely. 



242 



JOHN SKELTON 



Of wool amonges their flock; 

And as for their cunning, 

A glomming ^ and a mumming, 

And make therof a jape ; ^ 

They gaspe and they gape 

All to have promotion, 

There is their whole devotion, 

With money, if it will hap, 

To catch the forked cap: ^ 

Forsooth they are too lewd 90 

To say so, all beshrew'd! 

What trow ye they say more 

Of the bishop's lore ? 

How in matters they be raw; 

They lumber forth the law, 

To hearken Jack and Gill, 

Whan they put up a bill. 

And judge it as they will, 

For other men's skill, 

Expounding out their clausei3, 100 

And leave their own causes: 

In their provincial cure. 

They make but little sure, 

And meddle ^ very light 

In the Churches right, 

But ire and venire,^ 

And solfa so alamire,^ 

That the praemunire "^ 

Is like to be set afire 

In their jurisdictions no 

\ Through temporal afflictions: ^ 

Men say they have prescriptions 

Against spiritual contradictions, 

Accompting them as fictions. 
And whiles the heads do this, 

The remnant is amiss 

Of the clergy all. 

Both great and small. 

I wot never how they wark, 

But thus the people bark; 120 

And surely thus they say, 

Bishops, if they may, 

Small houses would keep, 

But slumber forth and sleep, 

And assay to creep 

Within the noble walls 

Of the king's halls, 
1 looking glum. 2 joke. mitre. 

< meddels in the text. 

5 Venire is a writ causing a jury to be summoned. 

6 the lowest note in a musical scale. 

' The designation of a writ instituting proceedings 
against those who preferred papal jurisdiction to the 
king's. 

8 The gist of these twenty lines appears to be : The 
bishops neglect their dioceses for private lawsuits, which 
circumstance is likely to make still more acute the quar- 
rel over jurisdiction between Henry VIII and the Pope. 



To fat their bodies full, 

Their souls lean and dull. 

And have full little care 130 

How evil their sheep fare. 

The temporality say plain, 
How bishops disdain 
Sermons for to make, 
Of such labour to take; 
And for to say truth, 
A great part is for slouth,^ 
But the greatest part 
Is for they have but small art 
And right slender cunning 140 

Within their heads wonning.i*^ 
But this reason they take 
How they are able to make 
With their gold and treasure 
Clerks out of measure, 
And yet that is a pleasure. 
How be it some there be, 
Almost two or three. 
Of that dignity. 

Full worshipful clerks, 150 

As appeareth by their werks. 
Like Aaron and Ure,ii 
The wolf from the door 
To werrin ^^ and to keep 
From their ghostly sheep. 
And their spiritual lambs 
Sequestered from rams 
And from the bearded goats 
With their hairy coats; 
Set nought by gold ne groats, 160 

Their names if I durst tell. 

But they are loath to mell,!^ 
And loath to hang the bell 
About the cat's neck. 
For dread to have a check; 
They are fain to play deuz deck,i* 
They are made for the beck.^^ 
How be it they are good men. 
Much hearted like an hen: 
Their lessons forgotten they have 170 
That Becket them gave: 
Thomas manum mittit adfortia^ 
Spernit damna, spernit opprohria, 
Nulla Thomam frangit injuria?^ 
But now every spiritual father, 
Men say, they had rather 

9 sloth. 10 dwelling. 

11 " Hur " in Exodus xvii, 10, and not Uriah in 2 
Sam. xi — as Dyce has it. 

12 guard. 13 meddle. 
1* a game of cards or dice. 

15 to be at beck and call. 

16 Thomas undertakes great things, thoughtless of 
contumely and injury. No hostility restrains him. 



COLIN CLOUT 



243 



Spend much of their share 

Thau to be cumb'red with care: 

Spend! nay, nay, but spare; 

For let see who that dare 180 

Shoe the mockish mare; 

They make her wince and kick, 

But it is not worth a leek: 

Boldness is to seek 

The Church for to defend. 

Take me as I intend, 

For loath I am to offend 

In this that I have penned: 

I tell you as men say; 

Amend whan ye may, 190 

For, usque ad montem Save, 

Men say ye can not appare ; ^ 

For some say ye hunt in parks, 

And hawk on hobby larks,^ 

And other wanton warks. 

Whan the night darks. 

What hath lay men to do 

The gray goose for to shoe ? 

Like hounds of hell, 

They cry and they yell, 200 

How that ye sell 

The grace of the Holy Ghost: 

Thus they make their boast 

Throughout every coast. 

How some of you do eat 

In Lenten season flesh meat. 

Pheasants, partridge, and cranes; 

Men call you therefor profanes; 

Ye pick no shrimps nor pranes,^ 

Saltfish, stockfish, nor herring, 210 

It is not for your wearing; 

Nor in holy Lenten season 

Ye will neither beans ne peasen,^ 

But ye look to be let loose 

To a pig or to a goose, 

Your gorge not endewed ® 

Without a capon stewed. 

Thus I, Colin Clout, 
As I go about, 
And wandering as I walk, 
I hear the people talk. 290 

Men say, for silver and gold 
Mitres are bought and sold; 

1 Dyce notes that the rime was probably Seir and 
appeire. For Seir see Joshua xv, 10; appare is im- 
pair. 

2 The sense appears to be to sport lasciviously with 
women. Cf. Magnificence, 1. 1582. A hobby is a small 
hawk used to chase larks and such. Perhaps we should 
read hobby-larks. 

8 prawns. * peas. 

6 Hawking term, " no digestion for you." 



There shall no clergy appose ^ 

A mitre nor a crose,^ 

But a full purse: 

A straw for God's curse ! 

What are they the worse ? 

For a simoniac 

Is but a hermoniac ; ^ 

And no more ye make 300 

Of simony, men say. 

But a child's play. 

Over this, the foresaid lay 
Report how the Pope may 
An holy anker ^ call 
Out of the stony wall. 
And him a bishop make. 
If he on him dare take 
To keep so hard a rule. 
To ride upon a mule 310 

With gold all betrapped, 
In purple and pall belapped; 
Some hatted and some capped, 
Richly and warm bewrapped, 
God wot to their great pains. 
In rochets of fine Ranes,^*^ 
White as morrow's milk; 
Their tabards ^^ of fine silk. 
Their stirrups of mixt gold begared;!^ 
There may no cost be spared ; 320 

Their moiles ^^ gold doth eat. 
Their neighbours die for meat. 

What care they though Gill sweat, 
Or Jack of the Noke ? " 
The poor people they yoke 
With summons and citations 
And excommunications, 
About churches and market: 
The bishop on his carpet 
At home full soft doth sit. 330 

This is a farly fit,i^ 
To hear the people jangle, ^^ 
How warily they wrangle: 
Alas, why do ye not handle 
And them all to-mangle ? ^'^ 
Full falsely on you they lie, 
And shamefully you ascry,^^ 
And say as untruly. 
As the butterfly 

A man might say in mock 340 

Were the weathercock 
Of the steeple of Paul's; 
And thus they hurt their souls 

6 learning challenge. '' crozier. s Armenian, i.e., 
heretic ? » anchorite, i" Rennes linen. " sleeve- 
less outer garments. 12 adorned. i3 mules. i< Com- 
mon men and women. is strange case. 16 chatter. 
17 thoroughly mangle. is attack. 



244 



JOHN SKELTON 



In slandering you for truth; 

Alas, it is great ruth ! 

Some say ye sit in tlirones, 

Like princes aquilonis,^ 

And shrine your rotten bones 

With pearls and precious stones; 

But how the commons groans, 350 

And the people moans 

For prestes ^ and for loans 

Lent and never paid, 

But from day to day delayed, 

The common wealth decayed. 

Men say ye are tongue-tayd,^ 

And thereof speak nothing 

But dissirauling and glosing. 

Wherfore men be supposing 

That ye give shrewd counsel 360 

Against the common well. 

By polling ^ and pillage 

In cities and village. 

By taxing and tollage, 

Ye make monks to have the culerage 

For covering of an old cottage, 

That committed is a college 

In the charter of dotage,^ 

Tenure par servyce de aottage. 

And not par servyce de socage^ 370 

After old seignieurs, 

And the learning of Littleton tenures ; ^ 

Ye have so overthwarted,'^ 

That good laws are subverted. 

And good reason perverted. 

Now will I go 830 

And tell of other mo, 
Semper protestando 
De non impugnando ^ 
The four orders of friars, 
Though some of them be liars; 
As liraiters ^ at large 
Will charge and discharge; 
As many a frere, God wot. 
Preaches for his groat, 
Flattering for a new coat 840 

And for to have his fees; 

1 of the North, i.e., like Lucifer. 

2 forced grants. 3 tongue-tied. * extortion. 

5 This obscure passage possibly says: to have the 
pledge (mod. culrach or culreach ?) for the recovery of 
an old cottage which was given to a religious body by 
some dotard, the tenure being by folly instead of by the 
usual socage. — Socage is holding in fee simple by the 
performance of some economic service, such as paying 
rent or doing agricultural labor. 

6 Littleton (fl. 1450) wrote a Treatise on Tenures. 

7 opposed (intransitive). 

8 Always protesting about not bothering. 

9 Friars who beg within a certain defined district. 



Some to gather cheese; 
Loath they are to lese '^^ 
Either corn or malt; 
Sometime meal and salt; 
Sometime a bacon flick,ii 
That is three fingers thick 
Of lard and of grease, 
Their covent to increase. 

I put you out of doubt, 850 

This can not be brought about 
But they their tongues file,^'^ 
And make a pleasant style 
To Margery and to Maud, 
How they have no fraud ; 
And sometime they provoke 
Both Gill and Jack at Noke i3 
Their duties to withdraw. 
That they ought by the law 
Their curates to content 860 

In open time i'* and in Lent: 
God wot, they take great pain 
To flatter and to feign; 
But it is an old said saw, 
That need hath no law. 
Some walk about in melottes,^^ 
In gray russet and hairy coats; 
Some will neither gold ne groats; 
Some pluck a partridge in remotes,^^ 
And by the bars of her tail 870 

Will know a raven from a rail, 
A quail, the rail, and the old raven 
Sed libera nos a malo .' ^'^ Amen. 
And by Dudum, their Clementine,^^ 
Against curates they repine; 
And say properly they are sacerdotes, 
To shrive, assoil, and release 
Dame Margery's soul out of Hell: 
But when the frere fell in the well, 
He could not sing himself thereout 880 
" But by the help of Christian Clout.i^ 
Another Clementine ^^ also, 
How frere Fabian, with other mo,2i 
Exivit de Paradiso ; ^^ 
Whan they again thither shal come, 
De hoc petimus consilium : ^ 

10 lose. " flitch. 12 polish. " Cf. 1. 324. 

14 time that is not fast-time. 

IB hair cloaks. is remote spots. 

17 Deliver us from evil. 

18 A decretal of Pope Clement V, beginning *' Dudum 
etc." grants friars the power of absolution and the like. 
See Dyce's note. 

19 Alluding to a popular song which told how a clever 
maid ducked a lustful friar in a well. 

20 Another decretal of Clement. 

21 more. The allusion is not obvious. 

22 Issued from Paradise. 

23 Of this we seek counsel. 



COLIN CLOUT 



245 



And through all the world they go 


With halls and with bowers, 


With Dirige and Placebo.^ 


Stretching to the stars, 940 


But now my mind ye understand, 


With glass windows and bars; 


For they must take in hand 890 


Hanging about the walls 


To preach, and to withstand 


Cloths of gold and palls. 


All manner of objections; 


Arras of rich array, 


For bishops have protections, 


Fresh as flowers in May; 


They say, to do corrections, 


With dame Diana naked; 


But they have no affections 


How lusty Venus quaked, 


To take the said directions; 


And how Cupid shaked 


In such manner of cases, 


His dart, and bent his bow 


Men say, they bear no faces 


For to shoot a crow 950 


To occupy such places. 


At her tirly tirlovv ; ' 


To sow the seed of graces: 900 


And how Paris of Troy 


Their hearts are so fainted,^ 


Daunced a lege de moy,^ 


And they be so attainted 


Made lusty sport and joy 


With covetise ^ and ambition, 


With dame Helen the queen ; 


And other superstition, 


With such stories bidene^ 


That they be deaf and dumb, 


Their chambers well beseen; 


And play silence and glum. 


With triumphs of Csesar, 


Can say nothing but mum. 


And of Pompeius' war. 


They occupy them so 


Of renown and of fame 960 


With singing Placeho^'^ 


By them to get a name: 


They will no farther go: 910 


Now all the world stares. 


They had lever to please, 


How they ride in goodly chares,!^ 


And take their worldly ease. 


Conveyed by oliphants,^^ 


Than to take on hand 


With laureat garlands. 


WorshipfuUy to withstand. 


And by unicorns 


Such temporal war and bate,^ 


With their seemly horns; 


As now is made of late 


Upon these beasts riding, 


Against holy Church estate, 


Naked boys striding. 


Or to maintain good quarrels. 


With wanton wenches winking. 970 


The lay men call them barrels 


Now truly, to my thinking. 


Full of gluttony 920 


That is a speculation 


And of hypocrisy. 


And a meet meditation 


That counterfeits and paints 


For prelates of estate. 


As they were very saints: 


Their courage to abate 


In matters that them like 


From worldly wantonness, 


They shew them politic, 


Their chambers thus to dress 


Pretending gravity 


With such parfetness ^^ 


And seigniority. 


And all such holiness; 


With all solemnity, 


Howbeit they let down fall 980 


For their indemnity; 


Their churches cathedral. 


For they will have no loss 930 




Of a penny nor of a cross 


Of no good bishop speak I, 


Of their predial ^ lands. 


Nor good priest I escry,^^ 


That Cometh to their hands, 


Good frere, nor good chanon, 


^ And as far as they dare set, 


Good nun, nor good canon uoo 


All is fish that cometh to net: 


Good monk, nor good clerk. 


Building royally 


Nor yet of no good work: 


Their mansions curiously. 


But my recounting is 


With turrets and with towers. 


Of them that do amiss 


1 With singing masses for the dead, of which parts 


' Cf . Eleanor Rumming, 1. 292. Here a wanton allusion. 


begin thus. 2 feigned. 3 covetousness. 


8 A sort of dance, evidently. 


4 With playing the sycophant. 


9 withal. 10 chariots. " elephants. 


s debate, fighting. 6 farm. 


" perfection. " attack. 



246 



JOHN SKELTON 



In speaking and rebelling, 

In hindering and disavailing ^ 

Holy Church, our mother, 

One against another; 

To use such despiting 

Is all my whole writing; mo 

To hinder no man, 

As near as I can. 

For no man have I named: 

Wherefore should I be blamed ? 

Ye ought to be ashamed, 

Against me to be gramed,^ 

And can tell no cause why, 

But that I write truly. 

Then if any there be 
Of high or low degree 1120 

Of the spiritualty, 
Or of the temporalty 
That doth think or ween 
That his conscience be not clean, 
And feeleth himself sick, 
Or touched on the quick, 
Such grace God them send 
Themself to amend, 
For I will not pretend 
Any man to offend. 1130 

Wherefore, as thinketh me, 
Great idiots they be. 
And little grace they have. 
This treatise to deprave;^ 
Nor will hear no preachmg, 
Nor no virtuous teaching, 
Nor will have no reciting 
Of any virtuous writing; 
Will know none intelligence 
To reform their negligence, 1140 

But live still out of fashion. 
To their own damnation. 
To do shame they have no shame, 
But they would no man should them 

blame : 
They have an evil name, 
But yet they will occupy the same. 

With them the word of God 
Is counted for no rod;"* 
They count it for a railing, 
That nothing is availing; 1150 

The preachers with evil hailing: 
* Shall they daunt us prelates, 
That be their primates ? 
Not so hardy on their pates ! 
Hark, how the losell ° prates, 
With a wide wesaunt ! ^ 



1 injuring. 
4 rule? 



2 angered. 
B rascal. 



3 defame. 

6 weasand, throat. 



Avaunt, Sir Guy of Gaunt." 

Avaunt, lewd priest, avaunt ! 

Avaunt, sir doctor Deuyas ! ^ 

Prate of thy matins and thy mass, n6o 

And let our matters pass: 

How darest thou, dawcock, mell ? ^ 

How darest thou, losell, 

Allegate ^^ the gospel 

Against us of the counsel ? 

Avaunt to the Devil of Hell! 

Take him, warden of the Fleet, 

Set him fast by the feet ! 

I say. Lieutenant of the Tower, 

Make this lurdeyne for to lour; 1170 

Lodge him in Little Ease,^! 

Feed him with beans and pease ! 

The King's Bench 1- or Marshalsy,^ 

Have him thider by and by ! ^^ 

The villain preacheth openly. 

And declareth our villany; 

And of our free simpleness 

He says that we are reckless, 

And full of wilfulness. 

Shameless and merciless, 1180 

Incorrigible and insatiate; 

And after this rate 

Against us doth prate. 

*At Paul's Cross or elsewhere, 

Openly at Westminster, 

And Saint Mary Spital," 

They set not by us a whistle: 

At the Austin friars ^^ 

They count us for liars: 

And at Saint Thomas of Akers^^ 1190 

They carp i" us like crakers,^^ 

How we will rule at all will 

Without good reason or skill; 

And say how that we be 

Full of partiality; 

And how at a prong ^^ 

We turn right into wrong, 

Delay causes so long 

That right no man can fong;20 

They say many matters be borne 1200 

By the right of a ram's liorn,^! 

Is not this a shameful scorn. 

To be teared thus and torn 
7 Possibly this is a certain Guy whose spirit haunted 
a town near Ghent. SeeDyce's note, iii, p. 133. « Pos- 
sibly for dence-nce. two-one, a poor throw, a worthless 
fellow. Perhaps devious. 9 meddle. 1° Allege. 

11 A name for an uncomfortable cell as well as for the 
stocks. 12 All London prisons. i3 immediately. 

14 This hospital was in Bishopsgate Ward. 

16 In Broad-Street Ward. 

15 Acre. This was a hospital in Cheapside. 

17 scold. 18 noisy talkers. is pinch. 2" obtain. 
21 Borne, i.e., carried out, crookedly. 



GARLAND OF LAUREL 



247 



' How may we this endure ? 
Wherefore we make you sure, 
Ye preachers shall be yaw'd; ^ 
And some shall be saw'd, 
As noble Isaias, 
The holy prophet, was; 
And some of you shall die, 12 10 

Like holy Jeremy; 
Some hanged, some slain, 
Some beaten to the brain ; 
And we will rule and reign, 
And our matters maintain 
Who dare say there again, 
Or who dare disdain 
At our pleasure and will: 
For, be it good or be it ill, 
As it is, it shall be still, 1220 

For all master doctor of Civil, 
Or of Divine, or doctor Drivel, 
Let him cough, rough,^ or snivel; 
Run God, run devil. 
Run who may run best. 
And let take all the rest ! 
We set not a nutshell 
The way to Heaven or to Hell.' 

Lo, this is the guise nowadays ! 
It is to dread, men says, 1230 

Lest they be Sadducees, 
As they be said sain ^ 
Which determined plain 
We should not rise again 
At dreadful doomsday; 
And so it seemeth they play. 
Which hate to be corrected 
Whan they be infected. 
Nor will suffer this book 
By hook ne by crook 1240 

Printed for to be. 
For that no man should see 
Nor read in any scrolls 
Of their drunken noils, 
Nor of their noddy polls,* 
Nor of their silly souls. 
Nor of some witless pates 
Of divers great estates, 
As well as other men. 

Now to withdraw my pen, 1250 

And now a while to rest. 
Me seemeth it for the best. 

The forecastle of my ship 
Shall glide, and smoothly slip 
Out of the waves wod ^ 
Of the stormy flood; 



* hewn to bits. 

3 called commonly. 



2 For rout, i.e., snore ? 
* silly pates. 5 mad. 



Shoot anchor, and lie at road,^ 
And sail not far abroad, 
Till the coast be clear, 
And the lode star appear: 1260 

My ship now will I steer 
Toward the port salu ' 
Of our Saviour Jesu, 
Such grace that he us send. 
To rectify and amend 
Things that are amiss. 
When that his pleasure is. 
Amen! 



GARLAND OF LAURELS 

To Mispress Isabell Pennell (1. 973) 

By Saint Mary, my lady. 
Your mammy and your daddy 
Brought forth a goodly baby ! 

My maiden Isabell, 
Reflaring ^ rosabell, 
The flagrant ^^ camomel; 

The ruddy rosary,^^ 
The sovereign rosemary, 
The pretty strawberry; 

The columbine, the nepte,^ 10 
The jeloffer ^^ well set. 
The proper '^^ violet; 

Enuwid ^^ your colour 
Is like the daisy flower 
After the April shower; 

Star of the morrow gray, 
The blossom on the spray, 
The freshest flower of May; 

Maidenly demure, 
Of womanhood the lure; 20 

Wherefore I make you sure, 

It were an heavenly health. 
It were an endless wealth, 
A life for God himself, 

To hear this nightingale, 
Among the birdes small. 
Warbling in the vale, 
Dug, dug, 
J"g, jug, 

Good year and good luck, 30 

With chuk, chuk, chuk, chuk ! 

8 at anchor. ^ safe port. 

8 The Garland of Laurel (c. 1600 11.) is an elaborate 
self-laudation, wherein Skelton, Laureate, communes 
with goddesses and departed worthies about himself 
and his works. The numerous little lyrical addresses 
are the pleasantest part of it. 

9 Odorous. 10 fragrant. ^i rose. 

12 mint ; also spelt nep. i3 pink, gillyflower. 

" modest. i5 Tinted. 



248 



JOHN SKELTON 



To Mistress Margaret Hussey (1. 1002) 


My darling dear, my daisy flower, 
Let me, quod he, lie in your lap. 


Merry Margaret, 


Lie still, quod she, my paramour, 


As midsummer flower, 


Lie still hardly,^ and take a nap. 


Gentle as falcon 


His head was heavy, such was his hap. 


Or hawk of the tower; ^ 


All drowsy dreaming, drowned in sleep. 


With solace and gladness, 


That of his love he took no keep, 


Much mirth and no madness, 


With, Hey, lullay, &c. 10 


All good and no badness, 




So joyously, 


With ba, ba, ba, and bas, bas, bas. 


So maidenly, 


She cherished 8 him both cheek and 


So womanly 10 


chin, 


Her demeaning 


That he wist never where he was; 


In every thing, 


He had forgotten all deadly sin. 


Far, far passing 


He wanted wit her love to win: 


That I can endite. 


He trusted her payment, and lost all his 


Or suffice to write 


pay: 


Of merry Margaret, 


She left him sleeping, and stale away, 


As midsummer flower, 


With, Hey, lullay, &c. 


Gentle as a falcon 




Or hawk of the tower; 


The rivers rowth,^ the waters wan,io 


As patient and as still, 20 


She spared not to wet her feet; 20 


And as full of good will, 


She waded over, she found a man 


Asfairlsaphill;2 


That liaised i^ her heartily and kissed her 


Coliander,^ 


sweet: 


Sweet poraander,^ 


Thus after her cold she caught a heat. 


Good cassander; ^ 


My lief, 12 she said, rowteth ^^ m his bed; 


Steadfast of thought. 


Iwis 1^ he hath an heavy head, 


Well made, well wrought; 


With, Hey, lullay, &c. 


Far may be sought 




Erst 6 that ye can find 


What dreamest thou, drunkard, drowsy 


So courteous, so kind 30 


pate ! 


As merry Margaret, 


Thy lust and liking is from thee gone ; 


This midsummer flower, 


Thou blinkerd blowbowl,^^ thou wakest too 


Gentle as falcon 


late. 


Or hawk of the tower. 


Behold, thou liest, luggard, alone ! 30 




Well may thou sigh, well may thou 




groan. 


LULLABY 


To deal with her so cowardly : 




Iwis, powle-hachet,i6 she bleared thine 


With, LuUay, lullay, like a child. 


eye.i" 


Thou sleepest too long, thou art beguiled. 


Quod Skeltofiylaureat. 


1 high-flying, towering, hawk. 


7 boldly. 8 kissed him. 9 rough. m Wan is a 


2 Hypsiphyle of Lemnos, who succoured Jason. See 


stock adjective with water. n embraced. 12 dear 


Chaucer's Legend of Good Women. 


one. 13 snores. i^ Certainly. i* stupid sot. 


8 Coriander. * perfume ball. 


16 Apparently " pole-hatchet," i.e., worthless fellow. 


B the herb cassandra ? c Before. 


Cf. " hatchet-face." " deceived you. 



STEPHEN HAWES 



THE PASTIME OF PLEASURE 

{From Cap. xiv. A commendation of Gower, 
Chaucer, and especially Lydgate) 

O THOUGHTFUL herte, tombled all aboute 
Upon the se of stormy ignoraunce, 
For to sayle forth e thou arte in grete doute, 
Over the waves of grete eneombraunce; 
Wythout ony comforte, sauf e of esperaunce, 
Whiche the exhorteth hardely to sayle 
Unto thy purpose wyth diligent travayle. 

Afrycus' Auster bloweth frowardly 

Towarde the lande and habitacyon 

Of thy wel f averde and moost f ayre lady, lo 

For whose sake and delectacyou 

Thou hast take this oecupacyon, 

Principally ryht well to attayne 

Her swete rewards for thy besy payne. 

O pensyfe herte, in the stormy pery ^ 
Mercury northwest thou mayst se appere, 
After tempest to glad tliyne emespery; ^ 
Hoyse ^ up thy sayle, for thou must drawe 

nere 
Towarde the ende of thy purpose so clere, 
Remembre the of the trace and daunce ^ 20 
Of poetes olde wyth all the purveyaunce. 

As morall Gower, whose sentencyous dewe 
Adowne reflayreth^ with fayre golden 

hemes, 
And after Chaucers all abrode doth shewe, 
Our vyces to dense; his depared ^ stremes 
Kyndlynge our hertes wyth the fyry lemes " 
Of moral vertue, as is probable 
In all hys bokes so swete and profytable. 

The boke of fame, which is sentencyous, 
He drewe hym selfe on hys owninvencyon; 
And than the tragidyes so pytous ^i 

Of the xix. ladyes,^ was his translacyon; 
And upon hys ymaginacyon 
He made also the tales of Caunterbury; 
Some vertuous, and some glad and mery. 

1 gale. 2 hemisphere, sphere, life. 3 The earlier 
form of our hoist. « example and practice. * distills. 

8 For depured, i.e., refined? ^ rays. 8 The Legend 
of Good Women. 



And of Troylus the pytous dolour 
For his lady Cresyde, ful of doublenes, 
He did bewayle ful well the langoure. 
Of all hys love and grete unhappiuess. 
And many other bokes doubtles 
He dyd compyle, whose godly name 
In printed bokes doth remayne in fame. 



40 



And, after him, my mayster Lydgate, 
The monke of Bury, dyd hym wel apply 
Both to contryve and eke to translate; 
And of vertue ever in especyally, 
For he dyd compyle than full nayally ^ 
Of our blessed lady the conversacion, 
Saint Edmunde's life martred with treson.^*^ 

Of the fall of prynces, ryght wofuUy 50 

He did endyte in all piteous wyse, 

Folowynge his auctoure Bocas rufully;^^ 

A ryght greate boke he did truly compryse, 

A good ensample for us to dispyse 

This worlde, so ful of mutabilyte. 

In whiche no man can have a certente. 

And thre reasons ryght greatly profytable 
Under coloure he cloked craf tely ; 
And of the chorle he made the fable 
That shutte the byrde in a cage so closely, 60 
The pamflete sheweth it expressely; ^^ 
He fayned also the Courte of Sapyence,^^ 
And translated wyth all his dylygence 

The grete boke of the last destruccyon 
Of the cyte of Troye, whylome so famous, 
How for woman was the confusyon; 
And betwene vertue and the lyfe vycyous 
Of goddes and goddess, a boke solacyous 
He did compyle ; and the tyme to passe. 
Of love he made the bryght Temple of 
Glasse. 70 

9 Is this a corruption of some word like royally f 

10 Lydgate composed a Life of the Virgin and several 
other pieces about and to her and St. Edmund. See the 
complete list of his works in MacCracken's Minor 
Poems of Lydgate. 

11 Lj'dgate's Fall of Princes is from Boccaccio's 
(Bocas') Z>e Casibus Virontm Illustrinm ; and he tells 
us that he set about his 3G, 000-line task ruefully. 

12 The Churl and the Bird. i3 The Court of Sapi- 
ence and The Assembly of Gods (1. 67) may not hereby 
Lydgate's — see MacCracken, p. xxxv. 



2SO 



STEPHEN HAWES 



Were not these thre gretly to commende, 
Whyche them applyed such bokes to con- 

tryve, 
Whose famous draughtes ^ no man can 

amende ? 
The synne of slouth they dyd from them 

dryve, 
After theyr death for to abyde on lyve 
In worthy fame by many a nacyon, 
Their bokes theyr actes do make relaeyon. 

mayster Lydgate, the most dulcet sprynge 
Of famous rethoryke, wyth balade ryall, 
The chefe orygynal of my lernyng, 80 
What vayleth ^ it on you for to call 

Me for to ayde, now in especiall; 
Sythen your body is now wrapte in chest, 

1 pray God to gyve your soule good rest. 

O what losse is it of suche a one ! 

It is to grete truely for me to tell; 

Sythen the tyme that his lyfe was gone, 

In al this realme his pere did not dwell; 

Above al other he did so excell, 

None sith his time in arte wolde succede, 90 

After their death to have fame for their mede. 

But many a one is ryght well experte 
In this connyng, but upon auctoryte, 
They fayne no fables pleasaunt and covert, 
But spende theyr time in vaynf ul vanyte, 
Makynge balades of fervent amyte. 
As gestes and tryfles wythout frutefulness; 
Thus al in vayne they spende their besynes, 

I, lytell or nought expert in poetry, 

Of my mayster Lydgate wyll folowe the 

trace, 100 

As evermore so his name to magnyfy 
Wyth suche lytle bokes, by Goddess grace. 
If in this worlde I may have the space; 
The lytell connyng that his grace me sente 
In tyme amouge in suche wyse shall be 

spente. 

And yet nothinge upon presumpcyon 

My mayster Lydgate I wyll not envy, 

But all onely is mine entencyon 

With suche labour my selfe to occupy; 

As whyte by blacke doth shyne more 
clerely, no 

So shal theyr matters appeare more pleas- 
aunt 

Besyde my draughtes rude and ignoraunt. 
1 delineations. 2 availeth. 



{From Cap. xvi, 0/ music) 

She commaunded her mynstrelles right 

anone to play 
Mamours ^ the s wete and the gentill daunce ; 
With La Bell Pucell, that was fayre and 

gaye. 
She me recommaunded, with all pleasuance, 
To daunce true measures without varyaunce. 

Lorde God ! how glad than was I, 
So for to daunce with my swete lady. 

By her propre hande, soft as any sylke. 
With due obeysaunce I dyd her then take ; 
Her skynne was white as whales bone ^ or 

mylke. 10 

My thought was ravysshed, I might not 

aslake ^ 
My breunynge hert, she the fyre dyd make; 
These daunces truely musyke hath me tought 
To lute or dauace, but it avayleth nought: 

For the fyre kyndled and waxed more and 

more, 
The dauncynge blewe it; wyth her beaute 

clere 
My hert sekened and began to waxe sore; 
A mjTiute vi. houres, and vi. houres a yere, 

1 thought it was, so hevy was my chere; 
But yet for cover my great love aryght, 20 
The outwarde couutenamice I made glad 

and light. 

And for fere myne eyes should my hert be- 
wray, 
I toke my leve and to a temple wente, 
And all alone I to my selfe dyd saye: 
Alas ! what fortune hath me hyther sente. 
To devoyde ^ my joye and my hert torment; 
No man can tell howe great payne it is. 
But yf he wyll fele it, as I do ywys. 

(From Cap. xviii. Of the dolorous and lowly 
disputacion betwene La Bel Pucell a7id Graund- 
amoure.) 

Than forth so went Good Counsell and I, 
At vi. a clocke, unto a garden fayre; 
By Musykes toure walked most goodly. 
Where La Bell Pucell used to repayre 
In the swete mornyng for to take the ayre 
Among the Houres of aromatyke fume, 
The mysty ayre to exyle and consume. 

s The name of a tune ? 

■ ivory — originally from the tusks of the walrus. 



quench. 



lose. 



THE PASTIME OF PLEASURE 



■5: 



And at the gate we met the portresse, 
That was right geutill, aud called Cur- 

teysy, 
Whych salued ^ us wyth wordes of meke- 

nesse, 10 

And axed us the veraye cause aud why 
Of our comyuge to the gardeine sothely ? 
Truly, saide we, for nothyng but well, 
A lytel to speke with La Bell Pucell. 

Truly, quod she, in the garden grene 
Of many a swete and sundry floure 
She maketh a garlonde that is veray shene; ^ 
Wyth true-loves ^ wrought in many a col- 

oure. 
Replete with swetenes and dulcet odoure; 
And all alone, wythout company, 20 

Amyddes an herber ^ she sitteth plesauntly. 

Nowe stande you styl for a lytle space, 
I wyll let her of you have knowledgynge. 
And ryght anone she went to her grace, 
Tellyng her than how we were comynge. 
To speke wyth her gretly desyrynge. 
Truly, she sayd, I am right well content 
Of theyr comyng to know the hole entent. 

Then good Curteysy, wythout taryenge. 
Came unto us wyth all her diligence, 30 
Prayeng us to take our entryng 
And come unto the ladies precence, 
To tell our erande to her excellence. 
Than in we wente to the garden gloryous, 
Lyke to a place of pleasure most solacyous. 

Wyth Flora paynted and wrought cury- 

ously. 
In divers knottes of marvaylous gretenes; 
Rampande lyons stode up wondersly. 
Made all of herbes with dulcet swetenes, 39 
Wyth many dragons of marvaylos likenes, 
Of dyvers floures made ful craftely, 
By Flora couloured wyth colours sundry. 

Amiddes the garden so moche delectable 
There was an herber fayre and quadrante,^ 
To paradyse right well comparable. 
Set all about with flours fragraunt; 
And in the myddle there was resplendy- 

shaunte 
A dulcet spring and a marvaylous foun- 

taine, 
Of.golde and asure made all certaine. 



1 saluted. 2 splendid. 
* arbor or garden. 



3 the plant so called 
5 square. 



In wonderfull and curious similitude 50 
There stode a dragon, of fyne golde so pure, 
Upon his tayle of myghty fortitude, 
Wretched and skaled al wyth asure; 
Havyng thre hedes divers in fygure, 
Whych in a bathe of the sylver grette 
Spouted the water that was so dulcette., 

Besyde whiche fountayne, the moost fayre 

lady 
La Bel Pncel was galy syttyng; 
Of many floures fayre and ryally 
A goodly chaplet she was in makynge. 60 
Her heer was downe so clerely shynynge, 
Lyke to the golde late purifyed with fyre, 
Her heer was bryght as the drawne wyre. 

Lyke to a lady for to be moost trewe, 
She ware a fayre and goodly garment. 
Of most fyne velvet, al of Indy blewe, 
Wytharmynespowdredbordredatthevent.^ 
On her fayre handes, as was convenient, 
A payre of gloves ryght sclender and softe. 
In approchyng nere I did beholde her oft. "^ 

And whan that I came before her presence, 
Unto the ground I dyd knele adowne; 
Sayeng: O lady ! moost fayre of excellence, 
O stere so clere of vertuous renowne ! 
Whose beaute fayre in every realme and 

towne. 
Indued wyth grace and also wyth goodnes, 
Dame Fame the her selfe doth evermore 

expresse. 

A moure 
Please it your grace for to gyve audyence 
Unto my wofuU and pitous complaynte; 
How fervent love, wythout resystence, 80 
My careful herte hath made low and faynte, 
And you therof are the hole constraynt; 
Your beauty truly hath me fettered faste, 
Wythout your helpe my life is nere-hand 
paste.' 

Pucell 

Stande up, quod she; I marvayle of this 

cace. 
What sodayne love hath you so arayde 
Wyth so great payne your heart to em- 
brace ? 

8 Bordered at the openings with a line of the heraldic 
ermine tails ; or perhaps better — dotted with heraldic 
ermine tails (sometimes white, but more properly 
black), and embroidered at the openings. 

' nearly passed. 



252 



STEPHEN HAWES 



And why for me ye should be so dismayde ? 
As of your lyfe ye nede not to be afrayde. 
For ye of me now have no greater awe, 90 
But whan ye lyst ye may your love wyth- 
draw. 

Amoure 
Than stode I up, and right so did she, 
Alas ! I sayd than, my heart is so set. 
That it is yours, it may none other be; 
Your selfe hath caught it in so sure a net, 
That if that I may not your favour get, 
No doubt it is, the great payne of love 
May not aswage tyl death it remove. 

P^^cell 
Truely, quod she, I am obedient 
Unto my frendes whych do me so guyde; 
They shal me rule as is convenient, loi 

In the snare of love I wyl nothyng slyde. 
My chaunce or fortune I wyll yet abide. 
I thanke you for your love right humbly. 
But I your cause can nothing remedy. 

Amoure 
1 knowe, madame, that your frendes all 
Unto me sure wyll be contraryous; 
But what for that ? your selfe in special! 
Remembre there is no love so joyous 
As is your owne to you most precyous; no 
Wyll you gyve your youthe and your flour- 

ynge aege 
To them agaynst your mynde in maryage ? 

Pucell 

Agaynst my mynde, of that I were lothe, 
To wed for fere, as them to obey; 
Yet had I lever they were somwhat wrothe, 
For I my selfe do here the locke and 

kaye 
Yet of my mynde, and wyll do many a 

daye. 
Myne owne I am, what that I lyste to do 
I stand untyed, there is no joye therto. 

Amoure 

O swete lady ! the good perfyte sterre 120 
Of my true herte, take ye now pyte; 
Thynke on my payne whiche am tofore you 

here, 
Wyth your swete eyes beholde you and se. 
How thought and wo, by great extremyte, 
Hath chaunged my hue into pale and wanne: 
It was not so whan 1 to love began. 



Pucell 

So, me thynke, it doth right well appere 
By your coloure that love hath done you 

wo; 
Your bevy countenaunce and your dolefull 

chere; 129 

Hath love suche myght for to aray you so 
In so short a space ? I marvayle moche 

also 
That ye wolde love me so sure in certayne, 
Before ye knewe that I wolde love agayne ? 

Amoure 
My good dere herte ! it is no mervayle why; 
Your beaute cleare and lovely lokes swete 
My herte dyde perce with love so sodaynly 
At the f}Tste tyme that I dyde you mete; 
In the olde temple whan I dyde you grete, 
Your beaute my herte so surely assayde, 139 
That syth that tyme it hath to you obayde. 

{From Cap. xix. How La Bell Pucell 
Graunted Graund Amoure Love, and of her 
Dispiteous Departage^) 

Your wo and payne, and all your languish- 

ynge, 
Continually ye shall not spende in vayne, 
Sythen I am cause of your great mornynge, 
Nothynge exyle you shall I by dysdayne; 
Youre hert and myne shall never parte in 

twayne : 
Though at the fyrste I wolde not conde- 

scende, 
It was for fere ye dyde some yll entende. 

A moure 
With thought of yll my minde was never 

myxte, 
To you, madame, but alway clene and pure, 
Bothe daye and nyght upon you hole per- 

fyxte.2 10 

But I my mynde yet durst nothynge dis- 

cure,^ 
How for your sake I dyd suche wo endure, 
Tyll now this houre with dredf uU hert so 

faynt 
To you, swete herte, I have made my com- 

playnt. 

Pucell 
I demed ofte you loved me before. 
By your demenour I dyde it aspye, 
And in my mynde I juged evermore 
1 merciless departure. > quite fixed. 3 disclose. 



THE PASTIME OF PLEASURE 



253 



That at the laste ye wolde full secretly 
Tell me your mynde of love right gen- 

tilly; 
As ye have done, so my mercy to crave, 20 
la all worshyppe you shal my true love 

have. 

Amoure 

Lorde God ! than how joyful! was I ! 
She loked on me wyth lovely contenauuce; 

1 kyst her ones or twise right swetely; 
Her depured 1 vysage, replete with pleas- 

aunce, 
Rejoyced my heart with amerous purve- 

aunce. 
O lady clere ! that perste ^ me at the 

rote, 
O floure of comforte, all my hele and 

bote! 

O gemme of vertue, and lady excellent! 
Above all other in beauteous goodlynesse ! 
O eyen bright as sterre refulgent, 31 

profounde cause of all my sekenesse, 
Now all my joye and all my gladnes, 
Wolde God that we were joyned in one, 
In maryage, before this day were gone. 

Pucell 

A, a! sayd she, ye must take a payne a 
whyle ; 

1 must depart, by the compulcyon 
Of my frendes, I wyl not you begyle. 
Though they me led to a ferre ^ nacion, 
My heart shall be without variacion 40 
Wyth you present, in perfite sykernes, 

As true and stable without doublenes. 

To me to come is harde and daungerous, 
When I am there; for gyauntes ugly, 
Wyth two monstres also, blacke and tedy- 

ous, 
That by the waye awayte full cruelly 
For to distroye you yll and utterly. 
Whan you that way do take the passage, 
To attayne my love by hye advauntage. 

{From Cap. xxvii. King Melezius defines 
Knighthood.) 

Knighthode, he sayd, was first established 
The comenwelth in right to defende, 
That by the wrong it be not minished; 
So every knight did truely condiscende, 
For the comynwelth his power to entende 
» pure, clear. « pierced. 8 far. 



Ageynst all suche rebelles contrarious, 
Them to subdue with power victorious. 

For knighthode is not in the feates of 

warre, 
As for to fight in quarell right or wronge, 
But in a cause which trouth can not de- 

f arre ; ^ 10 

He ought himselfe for to make sure and 

stronge 
Justice to kepe mixt with mercy amonge; 
And no quarell a knight ought to take, 
But for a trouth or for the comins ^ sake. 

For fyrst, good hope his legge barneys 

sholde be; 
His habergion of perfyte ryghtwysenes; 
Gyrde faste wyth the gyrdle of chastite, 
His riche placarde ^ should be good besi- 

nes, 
Brandred'^ with almes so full of larges; 
The helmet mekenes, and the shelde good 

f ay th ; 20 

His swerde Goddes worde, as saynt Poule 

sayth. 

Also true wyddowes he ought to restore 
Unto their right for to attayne theyr dower, 
And to upholde and niainteyne evermore 
The welth of maydens with his myghty 

power. 
And to his soverayne, at every raaner bower, 
To be redy, true, and eke obeysaunt, 
In stable love fixt and not variaunt. 

{From Cap. xxix. Howe he departed from 
Kynge Melyzyits, -with his Grayhoiindes and At- 
iendattnce, his Variety and met with false reporte, 
that chaunged his name to Godfrey Gobilyve.^) 

And so forth we rode, tyll we sawe aferre 
To us came rydyng, on a lytell nagge, 
A folysshe dwarfe, nothynge for the warre. 
With a hood, a bell, a foxtayle, and a 

bagge; 
In a py ed cote he rode brygge a bragge ; * 
And whan that he unto us drewe nye, 
I behelde his body and his visnamy.^^ 

« defer. 6 commons'. 6 breastplate. 

^ Probably we should read braudred = embroidered, 
embossed, adorned. See branderer in the Neic English 
Dictionary. 

s Godfrey Hnrry-Up or Quickstep. This vulgar, 
realistic genre-picture, reminding one of Langland and 
Skelton and the Moralities, occurs oddly in the gentle 
beauty of The Pastime. Notice the change of metre, 
on page 254, — from stanzas to couplets. 

9 swaggeringly ? 10 physiognomy, face. 



254 



STEPHEN HAWES 



His head was greate, beteled was his browes, 
Hys eyes holow, and his nose eroked ; 
His bryes ^ brystled truely lyke a sowes ; lo 
His chekes here,^ and God wote he loked 
Full lyke an ape; here and there he toted ^ 
With a pyed berde and hangyng lyppes 

grete, 
And every tothe as blacke as ony gete.^ 



His necke shorte, his sholders stode awry, 
His breste fatte, and bolne^ in the wast: 
His armes great, with fyngers crokedly; 
His legges kewed;^ he rode to me fast, 
Full lyke a patron'^ to be shaped in hast. 
' Good even,' he sayd, ' and have good day, 20 
If that it lyke you for to ryde merely.' 

* Welcome,' I say de ; ' I praye the now 

tell 
Me what thou arte and where thou dost 
dwell.' 

* Sothelyche,' quod he, * whan Icham ^ in 

Kent 
At home Icham; though I be hether 

sente, 
Icham a gentlyman of much noble kynne, 
Though Iche be clad in a knaves skynne. 
For there was one called Peter Pratefast, 
That in all hys lyfe spake no worde in 

waste ; 
He wedde a wyfe that was called Maude.' 30 

* I trowe,' quod I, ' she was a gorgious 

baude.' 

* Thou lyest,' quod he, ' she was gentyl and 

good. 
She gave her husbande many a furde hode,® 
And at his melys, without any mys, 
She wolde him serve in clenly wyse ywys. 
God love her soule as she loved elennes. 
And kepe her dysshes from al foulnes. 
Whan she . lacketh cloutes, without any 

fayle 
She wyped her disshes wyth her dogges 

tayle. 
And they had yssue Sym Sadie-gander, 40 
That for a wyfe in all the worlde did wan- 
der, 
Tyll at the last, in the wynters nyght. 
By Temmes he sayled, aryved by ryght, 
Amonge the nunnes of the grene cote.^'' 
He wente to land out of his prety bote, 

1 eyebrows. 2 hairy. ^ peered. * jet. 

6 swollen, i.e., he was pot-bellied. 

« meaning uncertain, perhaps askew, bowed. 

1 pattern. s i am. This is Kentish dialect. 

9 furred hood, i.e., hoodwinked him. " courtesans. 



And wedde there one that was comen 

anewe: ^^ 
He thought her stable, and fayfthf uU, and 

trewe. 
Her name was Betres, that so clenly was. 
That no fylthe by her in any wyse shoulde 

passe. 



And betwene them bothe they did get a 

Sonne, 50 

Whiche was ray father, that in Kente did 

wonne.^2 
His name was Davy Dronken-nole ; 
He never dranke but in a fayre blacke 

boule. 
He toke a wyfe that was very fayre. 
And gate me on her for to be his ayre. 
Her name was Alyson, she loved nought 

elles 
But ever more to rynge her blacke belles. ^^ 
Now are they deade all, so mote I well 

thryve, 
Excepte my selfe Godfray Gobelive, 
Whiche rode aboute, a wyfe me to seke, 60 
But I can finde none that is good and 

meke; 
For all are shrewes in the world aboute, 
I coude never mete with none other route ; 
For some deveUes wyll their husbandes 

bete. 
And tho that can not, they wyll never 

let 
Their tongues cease, but gyve thre wordes 

for one, 
Fy on them all ! I wyll of them have 

none : 
Who loveth any for to make hym sadde, 

I wene that he become worse than madde. 
They are not stedfast nothying in their 

mynde, 70 

But alway tornyng lyke a blaste of wynde. 
For let a man love them never so wele, 
They will hym love agayne never a dele. 
For though a man all his lyfe certayne 
Unto her sue to have release of payne, 
And at the last she on hym do rewe, 
If by fortune there come another newe. 
The first shall be clene out of her favoure. 
Recorde of Creseyd and of Troylus the 

doloure. 
They are so subtyll and so false of kynde, 80 
There can no man wade beyonde their 

mynde. 

II common enough. 12 dwell. 1* Meaning doubtful. 



THE EXCUSATION OF THE AUCTOUR 



255 



{Prom Cap. xlii, Graund Amours Epitaph) 

O mortall folke ! you may beholde and se 
Howe I lye here, sometime a myghty 

knyght; 
The end of joye and all prosperite 
Is death at last, through his course and 

myght; 
After the day there cometh the derke 

night; 
For though the day be never so longe, 
At last the belles ringeth to eveusonge. 

And my selfe called La Graunde Amoure, 
Seking adventure in the worldly glory, 
For to attayne the riches and honour, 10 
Did thinke full lytle that I should here 

Tyll deth dyde marke me full ryght pry- 

vely. 
Lo what I am ! and whereto you must ! 
Lyke as I am so shall you be all dust. 

Than in your mynde inwardly despyse 
The bryttle worlde, so full of doublenes, 
With the vyle flesshe, and ryght sone aryse 
Out of your slepe of mortall hevynes; 
Subdue the devill with grace and meke- 

nes. 
That after your ly f e f rayle and transitory, 20 
You may then live in joye perdurably. 



THE EXCUSATION OF THE 
AUCTOUR 

Unto all Poetes I do me excuse, 
If that I otfende for lacke of science; 
This lyttle boke yet do ye not refuse, 
Though it be devoyde of famous eloquence; 
Adde or detra^ by your hye sapience; 
And pardon me of my hye euterpryse, 
Whiche of late this fable dyd fayne and 
devise. 

Go, little boke ! I praye God the save 
From misse-metrying by wrong impression; 
And who that ever list the for to have, 10 
That he perceyve well thyne inteneion, 
For to be grounded without presumption, 
As for to eschue the synne of ydlenes; 
To make suche bokes I apply my busines. 

Besechyng God for to geve me grace 
Bokes to compyle of moral vertue; 
Of my maister Lid gate to folowe the trace, 
His noble fame for laude and renue,^ 
Whiche in his lyfe the slouthe did eschue; 
Makyng great bokes to be in memory, 20 
On whose soule 1 pray God have mercy. 

Finis 

* take away. * The line appears corrupt. One 
might supply to before laude. 



BALLADS 



LADY ISABEL AND THE ELF- 
KNIGHT 

1 Fair lady Isabel sits in her bower sew- 

ing, 
Aye as the gowans ^ grow gay ; 
There she heard an elf-knight blawing 

his horn. 
The first morning in May. 

2 *If I had yon horn that I hear blawing, 
And yon elf-knighttosleepin my bosom.' 

3 This maiden had scarcely these words 

spoken, 
Till in at her window the elf-knight has 
luppen.2 

4 * It 's a very strange matter, fair maiden,' 

said he, 9 

* I canna blaw my horn but ye call on me. 

5 * But will ye go to yon greenwood side ? 
If ye canna gang,^ I will cause you to 

ride.' 

6 He leapt on a horse, and she on another, 
And they rode on to the greenwood to- 
gether. 

7 ' Light down, light down, lady Isabel,' 

said he, 

* We are come to the place where ye 

are to die.' 

8 * Hae mercy, hae mercy, kind sir, on me. 
Till ance my dear father and mother I 

see.' 

9 * Seven king's-daughters here hae I slain, 
And ye shall be the eight o them.' 20 

10 * O sit down a while, lay your head on 
my knee, 
That we may hae some rest before that 
I die.' 
» daisies. « leaped. » walk. 



11 She stroak'd him sae fast, the nearer 

he did creep, 
Wi a sma charm she luUd him fast 
asleep. 

12 Wi his ain sword-belt sae fast as she 

ban^ him, 
Wi his ain dag-durk^ sae sair as she 
dang^ him. 

13 ' If seven king's-daughters here ye hae 

slain. 
Lye ye here, a husband to them a'.' 



THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY ^ 

1 * Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas,' 

she says, 
* And put on your armour so bright. 
Let it never be said that a daughter of 
thine 
Was married to a lord under night. 

2 * Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, 

And put on your armour so bright. 
And take better care of your youngest 
sister. 
For your eldest 's awa the last night.' 

3 He 's mounted her on a milk-white steed, 

And himself on a dapple grey, 10 

With a bugelet horn hung down by his 
side. 
And lightly they rode away. 

4 Lord William lookit oer his left shoulder. 

To see what he could see. 
And there he spy'd her seven brethren 
bold, 
Come riding over the lee. 

5 'Light down, light down. Lady Mar- 

gret,' he said, 
* And hold my steed in your hand, 

* bound. 8 dagger. 6 stabbed. 

" Also called Earl Brand. 



THE TWA SISTERS 



257 



10 



In 



12 



13 



Until that against your seven brethren 
bold, 
And your father I mak a stand.' 20 

She held his steed in her milk-white 
hand, 
And never shed one tear, 
Until that she saw her seven brethren 
fa, 
And her father hard fighting, who 
lovd her so dear. 

* hold your hand, Lord William ! ' 

she said, 

* For your strokes they are wondrous 

sair; 
True lovers I can get many a ane, 
But a father I can never get mair.' 

she 's taen out her handkerchief. 
It was o the holland sae fine, 30 

And aye she digbted her father's bloody 
wounds, 
That were redder than the wine. 

•0 chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret,' he 
said, 

* O whether will ye gang or bide ? ' 

* I 'U gang, I '11 gang. Lord William,' 

she said, 

* For ye have left me no other guide.' 

He 's lifted her on a milk-white steed, 
And himself on a dapple grey. 

With a bugelet horn hung down by his 
side, 
And slowly they baith rade away. 40 

O they rade on, and on they rade, 
And a' by the light of the moon. 

Until they came to yon wan water. 
And there they lighted down. 

They lighted down to tak a drink 
Of the spring than ran sae clear, 

And down the stream ran his gnde 
heart's blood, 
And sair she gan to fear. 

* Hold up, hold up. Lord William,' she 

says, 

* For I fear that you are slain; ' 50 
*'Tis naething but the shadow of my 

scarlet cloak, 
That shines in the water sae plain.' 



14 O they rade on, and on they rade, 

And a' by the light of the moon, 
Until they cam to his mother's ha door, 
And there they lighted down. 

15 * Get up, get up, lady mother,' he says, 

' Get up, and let me in ! 
Get up, get up, lady mother,' he says, 
' For this night my fair lady I 've 



16 ' O mak my bed, lady mother,' he says, 

* O mak it braid and deep, 
And lay lady Margret close at my 
back, 
And the somider I will sleep.' 

17 Lord William was dead lang ere mid- 

night. 
Lady Margret lang ere day, 
And all true lovers that go thegither. 
May they have mair luck than they ! 

18 Lord William was buried in St. Mary's 

kirk, 
Lady Margret in Mary's quire; 70 
Out o tlie lady's grave grew a bonny 
red rose. 
And out o the knight's a brier. 

19 And they twa met, and they twa plat,^ 

And fain they wad be near; 
And a' the warld might ken right weel 
They were twa lovers dear. 

20 But bye and rade the Black Douglas, 

And wow but he was rough ! 
For he pulld up the bonny brier, 

And flang 't in St. Mary's Loch. 80 



THE TWA SISTERS 

1 There was twa sisters in a bowr, 

Edinburgh, Edinburgh, 
There was twa sisters in a bowr, 

Stirling for ay, 
There was twa sisters in a bowr, 
There came a knight to be their wooer, 

Bonny Saint Johnston stands upon 
Tay. 

2 He courted the eldest wi glove an ring, 
But he lovd the youngest above a' thing. 

1 pleated, entwined. 



258 



BALLADS 



3 He courted the eldest wi brotch an 

knife, lo 

But lovd the youngest as his life. 

4 The eldest she was vexed sair, 
An much envi'd her sister fair. 

5 Into her bowr she could not rest, 
Wi grief an spite she almos brast.^ 

6 Upon a morning fair an clear, 
She cried upon her sister dear: 

7 * O sister, come to yon sea stran, 

An see our father's ships come to Ian.* 

8 She 's taen her by the milk-white han. 
An led her down to yon sea stran. 2i 

9 The younges[t] stood upon a stane, 
The eldest came an threw her in. 

10 She tooke her by the middle sma, 
An dashd her bonny back to the jaw.^ 

11 * O sister, sister, tak my han, 

An Ise ^ mack you heir to a' my Ian. 

12 * O sister, sister, tak my middle, 

An yes ^ get my goud and my gouden 
girdle, 

13 * O sister, sister, save my life, 30 
An I swear Ise never be nae man's wife.' 

14 * Foul fa the han that I should tacke. 
It twin'd me an my wardles make.^ 

15 ' Your cherry cheeks an yallow hair 
Gars me gae maiden for evermair.' 

16 Sometimes she sank, an sometimes she 

swam. 
Till she came down yon bonny milldam. 

17 O out it came the miller's son, 
An saw the fair maid swimmin in. 

18 ' O father, father, draw your dam, 40 
Here 's either a mermaid or a swan.' 

19 The miller quickly drew the dam, 
An there he found a drownd woman. 



1 burst. 
* ye shall. 



s waves. • I shall. 

6 world's mate. 



20 You coudna see her yallow hair 

For gold and pearle that were so rare. 

21 You coudna see her middle sma 

For gouden girdle that was sae braw. 

22 You coudna see her fingers white, 
For gouden rings that was sae gryte.® 

23 An by there came a harper fine, 50 
That harped to the king at dine. 

24 When he did look that lady upon. 
He sighd and made a heavy moan. 

25 He 's taen three locks o her yallow hair, 
An wi them strung his harp sae fair. 

26 The first tune he did play and sing. 
Was, * Farewell to my father the king.* 

27 The nextin tune that he playd syne,' 
Was, ' Farewell to my mother the queen.' 

28 The lasten tune that he playd then, 60 
Was, ' Wae to my sister, fair Ellen.' 



THE CRUEL BROTHER 

1 There was three ladies playd at the 

ba. 
With a hey ho and a lillie gay. 
There came a knight and played oer 
them a'. 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

2 The eldest was baith tall and fair, 
But the youngest was beyond compare. 

3 The midmost had a graceful mien. 
But the youngest lookd like beautie's 

queen. 

4 The knight bowd low to a' the three. 
But to the youngest he bent his knee. 10 

5 The ladie turned her head aside. 

The knight he woo'd her to be his 
bride. 

6 The ladie blushd a rosy red. 

And sayd, * Sir knight, I 'ra too young 
to wed.' 



great. 



» after. 



EDWARD 



259 



7 * O ladie fair, give me your hand, 
And I '11 make you ladie of a' my land.' 

8 * Sir knight, ere ye my favor win, 
You maun get consent frae a' my kin.' 

9 He 's got consent frae her parents dear. 
And likewise frae her sisters fair. 20 

i 10 He 's got consent frae her kin each one, 
But forgot to spiek to her brother John. 

11 Now, when the wedding day was come, 
The knight would take his bonny bride 
home. 

j 12 And many a lord and many a knight 
j| Came to behold that ladie bright. 

' 13 And there was nae man that did her see 
But wishd himself bridegroom to be. 

I 14 Her father dear led her down the stair, 

I And her sisters twain they kissd her 

there. 30 

1 15 Her mother dear led her thro the closs,^ 
I And her brother John set her on her 

horse. 

16 She leand her oer the saddle-bow, 
To give him a kiss ere she did go. 

17 He has taen a knife, baith lang and 

sharp, 
And stabbd that bonny bride to the 
heart. 



She hadno ridden half thro the town, 
Until her heart's blude staind her gown. 



} 18 

jj 19 'Ride softly on,' says the best young 



'For I think our bonny bride looks 
pale and wan.' 40 

20 * O lead me gently up yon hill. 

And I '11 there sit down, and make my 
will.' 

21 * what will you leave to your father 

des^r ? ' 
'The silver-shode steed that brought 
me here.' 

1 close, court-yard. 



22 ' What will you leave to your mother 

dear ? ' 

* My velvet pall and my silken gear.' 

23 * What will you leave to your sister 

Anne ? ' 

* My silken scarf and my gowden fan.* 

24 * What will you leave to your sister 

Grace ? ' 

* My bloody cloaths to wash and dress.' 50 

25 ' What will you leave to vour brother 

John ? ' 

* The gallows-tree to hang him on.' 

26 ' What will you leave to your brother 

John's wife ? ' 

* The wilderness to end her life.' 

27 This ladie fair in her grave was laid, 
And many a mass was oer her said. 

28 But it would have made your heart 

right sair, 
To see the bridegroom rive his haire. 



EDWARD 

1 ' Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, 

Edward, Edward? 
Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, 

And why sae sad gang yee ? ' 
'O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 

Mither, mither, 
O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 
And I had nae mair hot bee O.' 

2 ' Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, 

Edward, Edward, 
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid. 

My deir son I tell thee O.' 12 

' O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 

Mither, mither, 
O I hae killed my reid-roan steid. 
That erst was sae fair and frie O.' 

3 'Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat 

mair, 

Edward, Edward, 
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat 
mair. 
Sum other dule ^ ye drie ^ O.' 20 

« grief. » suffer. 



26o 



BALLADS 



* O I bae killed my fadir deir, 

Mither, mither, 
O I bae killed my fadir deir, 
Alas, and wae is mee O ! * 

4 * And wbatten penance wul ye drie for 

tbat, 

Edward, Edward? 
And wbatten penance will ye drie for 
that ? 
My deir son, now tell me O.' 

* He set my f eit in yonder boat, 

Mitber, mitber, 30 
He set my feit in yonder boat. 
And He fare ovir tbe sea O.* 

5 * And wbat wul ye doe wi your towirs 

and your ba, 

Edward, Edward? 
And wbat wul you doe wi your towirs 
and your ba, 
Tbat were sae fair to see O ? ' 

* He let tbame stand tul tbey doun 

fa, 

Mitber, mitber, 
He let tbame stand till tbey down 

fa. 
For bere nevir mair maun I bee O.' 40 

6 * And wbat wul ye leive to your bairns 

and your wife, 

Edward, Edward ? 
And wbat wul ye leive to your bairns 
and your wife, 
Wban ye gang ovir tbe sea O ? * 

* Tbe warldis room, late tbem beg tbrae 

life, 

Mitber, mitber, 
The warldis room, late them beg tbrae 
life. 
For tbame nevir mair wul I see 
O.' 

7 *And wbat wul ye leive to your ain 

mitber deir, 

Edward, Edward ? 

And wbat wul ye leive to your ain 

mitber deir ? 51 

My deir son, now tell me O.* 

* Tbe curse of bell frae me sail ye 

beir, 

Mitber, mither. 
The curse of hell frae me sail ye 
beir. 
Sic counseils ye gave to me O.' 



BABYLON; OR, THE BONNIE 
BANKS O FORDIE 

1 There were three ladies lived in a 

bower. 
Eh vow bonnie. 
And they went out to pull a flower, 
On tbe bonnie banks o Fordie. 

2 Tbey badna pu'ed a flower but ane. 
When up started to them a banisbt 

man. 

3 He 's taen tbe first sister by her band. 
And be 's turned her round and made 

her stand. 

4 * It 's whether will ye be a rank rob- 

ber's wife. 
Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife ? ' 10 

5 * It 's I '11 not be a rank robber's wife. 
But I '11 rather die by your wee pen- 
knife.' 

6 He 's killed this may, and he 's laid her 

by, 
For to bear the red rose company. 

7 He 's taken the second ane by tbe hand. 
And be 's turned her round and made 

her stand. 

8 *It's whether will ye be a rank rob- 

ber's wife, 
Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife ? ' 

9 * I '11 not be a rank robber's wife. 

But I '11 rather die by your wee pen- 
knife.' 20 

10 He 's killed this may, and he 's laid her 

by, 

For to bear the red rose company. 

11 He's taken the youngest ane by the 

band. 
And he 's turned her round and made 
her stand. 

12 Says, * Will ye be a rank robber's 

wife. 
Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife ? ' 

13 * I '11 not be a rank robber's wife, 
Nor will I die by your wee pen-knife. 



HIND HORN 



26] 



14 * For I hae a brother in this wood, 
And gin ye kill me, it 's he '11 kill 

thee.' 30 

15 * What 's thy brother's name ? come 

tell to me.' 
*My brother's name is Baby Lon.' 

16 *0 sister, sister, what have I done! 
O have I done this ill to thee! 

17 * since I 've done this evil deed, 
Good sail never be seen o me.' 

18 He 's taken out his wee pen-knife. 
And he's twyned^ himsel o his aia 

sweet life. 



HIND HORN 2 

1 In Scotland there was a babie born. 
And his name it was called young Hind 

Horn. 
Lilie lal, etc. With a fal lal, etc. 

2 He sent a letter to our king 

That he was in love with his daughter 
Jean. 

3 He 's gien to her a silver wand, 

With seven living lavrocks^ sitting 
thereon. 

4 She 's gien to him a diamond ring, 
With seven bright diamonds set therein. 

5 ' When this ring grows pale and wan, 10 

You may know by it my love is gane.' 

6 One day as he looked his ring upon. 
He saw the diamonds pale and wan. 

7 He left the sea and came to land. 
And the first that he met was an old 

beggar man. 

8 ' What news, what news,' said young 

Hind Horn; 
* No news, no news,' said the old beg- 
gar man. 

1 deprived. 

* An ancient and widespread story having some 
connection with the Middle-English romance, The Gest 
of King Horn. See Professor Child's remarks, Eng- 
lish and Scottish Popular Ballads, Part i, 201. » larks. 



9 'No news,' said the beggar, 'no news 
at a'. 
But there 's a wedding In the king's 
ha. 

10 ' But there is a wedding in the king's 

ha, ao 

That has halden these forty days and 
twa.' 

11 * Will ye lend me your begging coat ? 
And I '11 lend you my scarlet cloak. 

12 ' Will you lend me your beggar's rung ^ ? 
And I '11 gie you my steed to ride upon. 

13 ' Will you lend me your wig o hair, 
To cover mine, because it is fair ? ' 

14 The auld beggar man was bound for 

the mill. 
But young Hind Horn for the king's 
hall. 

15 The auld beggar man was bound for to 

ride, 30 

But young Hind Horn was bound for 
the bride. 

16 When he came to the king's gate, 

He sought a drink for Hind Horn's 
sake. 

17 The bride came down with a glass of 

wine. 
When he drank out the glass, and dropt 
in the ring. 

18 * O got ye this by sea or land ? 

Or got ye it off a dead man's hand ? * 

19 ' I got not it by sea, I got it by land. 
And I got it, madam, out of your own 

hand.' 

20 ' O I '11 cast off my gowns of brown, 40 
And beg wi you frae town to town. 

21 * O I '11 cast off my gowns of red, 
And I '11 beg wi you to wia my bread.* 

22 ' Ye needna cast off your gowns of 

brown, 
For I '11 make you lady o many a town. 

< staff. 



262 



BALLADS 



23 * Ye neeclna cast off your gowns of red, 
It 's only a sham the begging o my bread.' 

24 The bridegroom he had wedded the bride, 

But young Hind Horn he took her to bed. 



KING ORFEQi 

1 Der lived a king inta da aste,^ 

Scowan iirla griin.^ 
Der lived a lady in da wast.^ 
Whar giorten han griiu oarlac.^ 

2 Dis king he has a huntin gaen 
He 's left his Lady Isabel alane. 

3 * Oh I wis ye 'd never gaen away, 
For at your hame is dol ^ an wae. 

4 * For da king o Ferric we his daert. 
Has pierced your lady to da hert.' 10 

5 And aifter dem da king has gaen, 
But whan he cam it was a grey stane. 

6 Dan he took oot his pipes ta play, 
Bit sair his hert wi dol an wae. 

7 And first he played da notes o noy. 
An dan he played da notes o joy. 

8 An dan he played da god gabber reel,^ 
Dat meicht ha made a sick hert hale. 

9 * Noo come ye in inta wir ''' ha, 

An come ye in among wis ^ a'.' 20 

10 Now he 's gane in inta der ha. 
An he 's gane in among dem a'. 

11 Dan he took out his pipes to play, 
Bit sair his hert wi dol an wae. 

12 An first he played da notes o noy, 
An dan he played da notes o joy. 

13 An dan he played da god gabber reel, 
Dat meicht ha made a sick hert hale. 

1 This ballad from the Shetland Islands tells the 
strangely modified story of Orpheus and Eurydice ; yet 
it is not so very unlike the mediaeval version, King 
Orpheo, a beautiful romance, printed in Ritson's 3fet- 
rical Romances, 11, 248 ; and turned into modern 
verses by E. E. Hunt, Cambridge, Mass., 1909. 

3 east. 3 The Scandinavian refrain is practically 
meaningless. « west. s grief. 6 The good gabber 
reel is some lively tune. ^ our. 8 us. 



14 ' Noo tell to us what ye will hae: 
What sail we gie you for your play ? ' 30 

15 « What I will hae I will you tell, 
An dat 's me Lady Isabel.' 

16 *Yees tak your lady, an yees gaeng 

hame. 
An yees be king ower a' your ain.' 

17 He 's taen his lady, an he 's gaen hame, 
An noo he 's king ower a' his ain. 



ST. STEPHEN AND HEROD 9 

1 SEYiVT Stevene was a clerk in kyng 

Herowdes halle. 
And servyd him of bred and cloj?,^^ as 
every kyng befalle. 

2 Stevyn out of kechone ^^ cam, yfyih boris 

hed on honde; 
He saw a sterre was fayr and bry3t over 
Bedlem stonde. 

3 He kyst adoun y>e boris hed and went in 

to ]?e halle: 
* I f orsak j^e, kyng Herowdes, and J?i 
werkes alle. 

4 *I f orsak ]?e, kyn^ Herowdes, and ^pi 

werkes alle; 
J>er is a chyld in Bedlem bom is beter 
J>an we alle.' 

5 * Quat eylyt '^ ]7e, Stevene ? (\uat is Jtc 

befalle ? 
Lakkyt }?e ^^ ej^er mete or drynk in kyng 
Herowdes halle ? ' 10 

6 * Lakit me neyj^er mete ne di'ynk in kyng 

Herowdes halle; 
J>er is a chyld in Bedlem born is beter 
J>an we alle.' 

7 Quat eylyt l^e, Stevyn ? art }?u wod,^^ or 

}7u gynnyst to brede ? ^^ 
Lakkyt ]>e eyf er gold or fe, or ony ryche 
wede ? ' 

9 This version is as old as the fifteenth century. With 
it may be compared the eighteenth-century carol. The 
Camel (Crow) and the Crane, No. 55 in the Sargent- 
Kittredge volume. i" cloth, th is written Jy through- 
out the ballad. " kitchen. 12 What aileth. i3 Do 
you lack. 1* mad. i* wander, rave (probably). 



JUDAS 



263 



i 



I 



8 * Lakyt me nejper gold ne f e, ne non 

ryche wede; 
"per is a chyld in Bedlem born xal ^ Jbel- 
pyn vs at our nede.' 

9 * ]>at is al so so]?,^ Stevyn, al so soJ», iwys, 
As j^is capoun crowe xal Ipat lyj? here in 

myn dysh.' 

10 "pat word was not so sone seyd, ]>at word 

in Ipat halle, 
pe capouw crew Cristus natws est! among 
fe lordes alle. 20 

11 * Rysyt 3 vp, myn turmentowres,^ be to 

and al be on, 
And ledyt Stevyn out of fiis town, and 
stowyt hym wyth ston ! ' 

12 Tokyn he Stevene, and stonyd hym in 

the way, 
And Iperioie is his evyn on Crystes owyn 
day. 



JUDAS 5 



1 Hit wes upon a Scere)7orsday ^ pat ure 

louerd aros; 
Ful milde were J^e wordes he spec "^ to 
ludas. 

2 * ludas, }70u most to lurselem, oure mete 

for to bugge ; ^ 
J)rittx platen of selver J^ou here up oJ?i 
rugge.^ 

3 * J»ou comest fer ij^e '^^ brode stret, f er ij^e 

brode strete; 
Summe of pine tunesmen J?er pou meist 
i-mete.' 

4 Imette wid is soster,pe swikele^i wimon: 
' ludas, J?ou were wrpe ^ me stende ^^ 

J»e wid ston; 

6 [* ludas, pou were wrpe me stende pe 
wid ston,] 
For J»e false prophete pat tou bilevest 

10 



upon. 



i shall. 2 sooth, true. ' Rise. * executioners. 

6 The oldest of our ballad manuscripts, being from 
MS. B 14, 39, of the thirteenth century, library of 
Trinity College, Cambridge. 6 Sheer Thursday. 

? spake. 8 buy. » upon thy back. 10 in the, 
_ " treacherous. 12 worthy is one stoned. 



6 * Be stille, leve soster, pin herte pe to- 

breke!^^ 

Wiste min louerd Crist, ful wel he wolde 
be wreke.'^^ 

7 * ludas, go pou on pe roc, heie up-on pe 

ston ; 
Lei pin heued i my barm,^^ slep pou pe 
anon. ' 

8 Sone so ludas of slepe was awake, 
]?ritti platen of selver from hym weren 

itake. 

9 He drou hym selue bi pe cop, pat al it 

lavede ablode;!^ 
J>e lewes out of lurselem awenden^s he 
were wode.^^ 

10 Foret ^"^ hym com pe riche leu pat heiste 21 

Pilatus : 
«Wolte sulle22 pi louerd, pat betters le- 
ans ? * 20 

11 * I nul 24 sulle my louerd for nones cunnes 

eiste,^^ 
Bote hit be for pe pritti platen pat he 
me bi-taiste.* ^ 

12 * Wolte sulle pi lord Crist for enes cunnes 

golde ? ' 
'Nay, bote hit be for pe platen pat he 
habben wolde.' ^ 

13 In him com ur lord gon, as is postles 

seten at mete: 
* Wou 28 sitte ye, postles, arit wi nule ^ 
ye ete? 

14 [* Wou sitte ye, postles, ant wi nule ye 

ete?] 
Ic am iboust ^^ ant Isold to-day for cure 
mete.' 

15 Vp stod him ludas: * Lord, am I pat . . .? 
I nas ^1 never ope stude ^2 per me pe 

euel spec' ^^ 30 



14 may thy heart break. i5 avenged. i^ 

17 He tore his hair (beat his head) till it all ran blood. 

13 weened. i» mad. 20 Before. 21 was called. 

22 Wilt thou sell. 23 ig called. 21 will not. 

25 no kind of possession. 26 entrusted to. 

27 wished to have. 28 how. 29 why will not. 

80 bought. 31 was not. '2 in the place. 

83 where one spoke evil of you. 



264 



BALLADS 



* 



16 Vp him stod Peter, ant spec wid al is 

miste,! 
fau Pilatus him come wid ten hundred 
cnistes,^ 

17 [' )?au Pilatus him com wid ten hundred 

cnistes,] 
Yet ic wolde, louerd, for ]>[ loue fiste.' ^ 

18 'Still ]70u be, Peter, wel I J?e i-cnowe; 
]?ou wolt fur-sake me ]?rien "* ar )?e coc 

him crowe/ 



THE THREE RAVENS 

1 There were three ravens sat on a tree, 

Downe a downe, hay down, hay downe 
There were three ravens sat on a tree, 

With a downe 
There were three ravens sat on a tree. 
They were as blacke as they might be. 

With a downe derrie, derrie, derrie, 
downe, downe. 

2 The one of them said to his mate, 

< Where shall we our breakefast take? ' 

3 ' Downe in yonder greene field, 10 
There lies a knight slain under his 

shield. 

4 * His hounds they lie downe at his feete, 
So well they can their master keepe. 

5 * His haukes they flie so eagerly. 
There 's no fowle dare him come nie.' 

6 Downe there comes a fallow doe. 

As great with yong as she might goe. 

7 She lift up his bloudy hed, 

And kist his wounds that were so red. 

8 She got him up vpon her backe, 20 
And carried him to earthen lake.^ 

9 She buried him before the prime. 

She was dead herself e ere even-song time. 

10 God send every gentleman. 

Such haukes, such hounds, and such a 
leman.® 

1 might. « knights. > fight. « thrice. 
E pit. sweetheart. 



THE TWA CORBIES 

1 As I was walking all alane, 

I heard twa corbies making a mane '^; 

The tane unto the t'other say, 

* Where sail we gang and dine to-day? * 

2 ' In behint yon auld fail ^ dyke, 

I wot there lies a new slain knight; 
And naebody kens that he lies there, 
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. 

3 'His hound is to the hunting gane. 

His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 10 
His lady 's ta'en another mate. 
So we may mak our dinner sweet. 

4 * Ye '11 sit on his white hause-bane,^ 
And I '11 pike out his bonny blue een; 
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair 

We'll theek^*^ our nest when it grows 
bare. 

5 *Mony a one for him makes mane, 
But nane sail ken where he is gane ; 
Oer his white banes, when they are bare, 
The wind sail blaw for evermair.' 20 



KING HENRY" 

1 Lat never a man a wooing wend 

That lacketh thingis three; 
A routh 12 o gold, an open heart, 
Ay fu o charity. 

2 As this I speak of King Henry, 

For he lay burd-alone ; ^^ 
An he *s doen him to a jelly hunt's ha," 
Was seven miles f rae a town. 

3 He chas'd the deer now him before, 

An the roe down by the den, 10 

Till the fattest buck in a' the flock 
King Henry he has slain. 

4 he has doen him to his ha. 

To make him beerly ^^ cheer; 
An in it came a griesly ghost, 
Steed stappin i the fleer.^^ 

1 moan. » turf. » neck-bone. i" thatch. 

11 A more polished version of this story is found in 
the mutilated ballad of The Marriage of Sir Gawain (No. 
31 in Child). There are several Celtic analogues, some 
of great age. The whole set is discussed inG. H. May- 
nadier's Wije oj Batfi' s Tale, London, 1901. 

12 plenty. " quite solitary. 1* a jolly hunting, 
lodge. 15 great. 16 Stood hesitating on the floor. 



KEMP OWYNE 



265 



5 Her head hat the reef-tree ^ o the house, 

Her middle ye mot wel span ; 
He 's thrown to her his gay mantle, 
Says, ' Lady, hap your lingcan.' ^ 20 

6 Her teeth was a' like teather stakes, 

Her nose like club or mel] ; ^ 
An I ken naething she 'peard to be. 
But the fiend that wons ^ in hell. 

7 * Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry, 

Some meat ye gi to me ! ' 

* An what meat 's in this house, lady. 

An what ha I to gie ? ' 

* O ye do kill your berry-brown steed. 

An you bring him here to me.' 30 

8 O whan he slew his berry-brown steed, 

Wow but his heart was sair ! 
Shee eat him [a'] up, skin an bane, 
Left neathing but hide an hair. 

9 'Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, 

Mair meat ye gi to me ! ' 
' An what meat 's in this house, lady. 

An what ha 1 to gi ? ' 
*0 ye do kill your good gray-hounds. 

An ye bring them a' to me.* 40 

10 O whan he slew his good gray-hounds. 

Wow but his heart was sair ! 
She eat them a' up, skin an bane, 
Left naething but hide an hair. 

11 * Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, 

Mair meat ye gi to me ! ' 

* An what meat 's i this house, lady. 

An what ha I to gi ? ' 

* O ye do kill your gay gos-hawks, 

An ye bring them here to me.' 50 

12 O whan he slew his gay gos-hawks. 

Wow but his heart was sair ! 
She eat them a' up, skin an bane. 
Left naething but feathers bare. 

13 * Some drink, some drink, now, King 

Henry, 
Some drink ye bring to me ! ' 

* O what drink 's i this house, lady, 

That you 're nae welcome ti ? ' 

* O ye sew up your horse's hide, 

An bring in a drink to me.' 60 



hit the roof-tree. 



2 wrap your body. 
* dwells. 



14 And he 's sewd up the bloody hide, 

A puncheon o wine put in; 
She drank it a' up at a waught,^ 
Left na ae drap ahin.^ 

15 *A bed, a bed, now, King Henry, 

A bed you mak to me ! 
For ye maun pu the heather green, 
An mak a bed to me.' 

16 O pu'd has he the heather green, 

An made to her a bed, 
An up has he taen his gay mantle. 
An oer it has he spread. 



70 



17 * Tak aff your claiths, now. King Henry, 

An lye down by my side ! ' 
* O God forbid,' says King Henry, 

'That ever the like betide; 
That ever the fiend that wons in hell 

Shoud streak" down by my side.' 

18 Whan night was gane, and day was 

come, 
An the sun shone throw the ha, 80 
The fairest lady that ever was seen 
Lay atween him an the wa. 

19 ' O well is me ! ' says King Henry, 

* How lang '11 this last wi me ? ' 
Then out it spake that fair lady, 

* Even till the day you dee. 

20 * For I 've met wi mouy a gentle knight 

That 's gien me sic a fill, 
But never before wi a courteous knight 
That ga me a' my will.' 90 



KEMP OWYNE 8 

1 BDer mother died when she was young. 

Which gave her cause to make great 
moan; 
Her father married the warst woman 
That ever lived in Christendom. 

2 She served her with foot and hand, 

In every thing that she could dee,^ 
Till once, in an unlucky time. 

She threw her in ower Craigy's sea. 

5 draught. « behind. ^ stretch. 

8 Also ca,\led Kempi on. Owyne is Owain or Twain, 
one of Arthur's knights, who in the romances has many 
adventures, but not this. Disenchantment thus by a 
kiss is a commonplace in romance. ^ do. 



266 



BALLADS 



3 Says, * Lie you there, dove Isabel, 

And all my sorrows lie with thee; lo 
Till Kemp Owyne come over the sea. 

And borrow ^ you with kisses three, 
Let all the warld do what they will, 

Oh borrowed shall you never be ! ' 

4 Her breath grew Strang, her hair grew 

lang, 
And twisted thrice about the tree, 
And all the people, far and near. 
Thought that a savage beast was she. 

5 These news did come to Kemp Owyne, 

Where he lived, far beyond the sea; 
He hasted him to Craigy's sea, 21 

And on the savage beast lookd he. 

6 Her breath was Strang, her hair was lang. 

And twisted was about the tree, 
■ And with a swing she came about: 

* Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with 

me. 

7 * Here is a royal belt,' she cried, 

' That I have found in the green sea; 
And while your body it is on. 

Drawn shall your blood never be; 30 
But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I vow my belt your death shall be.' 

8 He stepped in, gave her a kiss, 

The royal belt he brought him wi; 
Her breath was Strang, her hair was 
lang, 

And twisted twice about the tree, 
And with a swing she came about: 

* Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with 

me. 

9 * Here is a royal ring,' she said, 

* That I have found in the green sea; 
And while your finger it is on, 41 

Drawn shall your blood never be; 
But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I swear my ring your death shall be.' 

10 He stepped in, gave her a kiss, 

The royal ring he brought him wi; 
Her breath was strang,her hair was lang. 

And twisted ance about the tree. 
And with a swing she came about: 
*Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with 
me. 50 

1 ransom. 



11 * Here is a royal brand,' she said, 

* That I have found in the green 
sea; 
And while your body it is on, 

Drawn shall your blood never be; 
But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I swear my brand your death shall 
be.' 

12 He stepped in, gave her a kiss. 

The royal brand he brought him wi; 
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew 
short, 

And twisted nane about the tree, 60 
And smilingly she came about. 

As fair a woman as fair could be. 



THE LAILY WORM AND THE 
MACHREL OF THE SEA 

1 ' I WAS bat seven year alld 

Fan 2 my mider she did dee, 
My father marred the ae ^ warst woman 
The wardle ^ did ever see. 

2 *For she has made me the lailly^ worm 

That lays att the fitt ® of the tree, 
An o my sister Meassry 
The machrel of the sea. 

3 * An every Saterday att noon 

The machrl comes to me, 10 

An she takes my layle head, 

An lays it on her knee, 
An keames it we a silver kemm,^ 

An washes it in the sea. 

4 * Seven knights ha I slain 

Sane ^ I lay att the fitt of the tree; 
An ye war na my ain father, 
The eight an ye sud be.' 

5 * Sing on your song, ye l[a]ily worm. 

That ye sung to me ; ' 20 

* I never sung that song 
But f att ^ I wad sing to ye. 

6 ' I was but seven year auU 

Fan my mider she [did] dee. 
My father marred the a warst woman 
The wardle did ever see. 

2 When. ' one. * world. ^ loathly. 
6 foot. 7 combs it with a silver comb. 

8 Since. 8 what. 



THOMAS RYMER AND THE QUEEN OF ELFLAND 267 



7 * She changed me to the layel[yj worm 
That layes att the fltt of the tree, 

An my sister Messry 

[To] the makrell of the sea. 30 

8 ' And every Saterday att noon 
The machrell comes to me, 

An she takes my layly head. 

An layes it on her knee, 
An kames it weth a siller kame. 

An washes it in the sea. 

9 * Seven knights ha I slain 

j San I lay att the fitt of the tree; 

j An ye war na my ain father, 

I The eight ye sud be.' 40 

10 He sent for his lady 

As fast as sen cod^ he: 
*Far2 is my son, 

That ye sent fra me, 
And my daughter. 

Lady Messry ? ' 

11 * Yer son is att our king's court, 

Sarving for meatt an fee, 
And yer daugh[t ]er is att our quin's court, 
A mary suit ^ an free.' 50 

12 * Ye lee,^ ye ill woman, 

Sa loud as I hear ye lea, 
For my son is the layelly worm 

That lays at the fitt of the tree. 
An my daughter Messry 

The machrell of the sea.' 

13 She has tain a silver wan 

An gine him stroks three, 
An he started up the bravest knight 
Your eyes did ever see. 60 

14 She has tane a small horn 

An loud an shill ^ blue she. 
An a' the fish came her tell^ but the 
proud machrell. 

An she stood by the sea: 
Ye shaped me ance an unshemly shape. 

An ye 's never mare shape me.' 

15 He has sent to the wood 

For hathorn an fun,'^ 
An he has tane that gay lady, 

An ther he did her burne. 70 

« send could. « Where. 3 maid-of-honor sweet. 
4 lie. * shrill. ^ to. ' whin, gorse. 



THOMAS RYMER AND THE 
QUEEN OF ELFLAND 8 

1 True Thomas lay oer yond grassy bank, 

And he beheld a ladie gay, 
A ladie that was brisk and bold, 
Come riding oer the ferule brae. 

2 Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, 

Her mantel of the velvet fine, 
At ilka tett ^ of her horse's mane 
Hung fifty silver bells and nine. 

3 True Thomas he took off his hat, 

And bowed him low down till his 

knee: lo 

* Al hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven 1 

For your peer on earth I never did 



4 ' O no, O no, True Thomas,' she says, 

'That name does not belong to me; 
I am but the queen of fair Elfiand, 
And I 'm come here for to visit thee. 

5 * But ye maun go wi me now, Thomas, 

True Thomas, ye maun go wi me. 
For ye maun serve me seven years, 
Thro we el or wae as may chance 
to be.' 2o 

6 She turned about her milk-white steed 

And took True Thomas up behind. 
And aye whence r her bridle rang, 
The steed flew swifter than the wind. 

7 For forty days and forty nights 

He wade thro red blude to the knee, 
And he saw neither sun nor moon, 
But heard the roaring of the sea. 

8 O they rade on, and further on. 

Until they came to a garden green : 30 
* Light down, light down, ye ladie free. 
Some of that fruit let me pull to 
thee.' 

9 ' O no, O no, True Thomas,' she says, 

' That fruit maun not be touched by 
thee. 
For a' the plagues that are in hell 
Light on the fruit of this countrie. 

8 For a discussion of this typical other- world jour- 
ney and its relation to the fifteenth-century romance 
of Thomas of Erceldoune, see Child, 1, 323. 9 tuft. 



268 



BALLADS 



10 * But I have a loaf here in my lap, 

Likewise a bottle of claret wine, 
And now ere we go farther on, 39 

We '11 rest a while, and ye may dine.' 

11 When he had eaten and drunk his fill, 

* Lay down your head upon my knee,' 

The lady sayd, * ere we climb yon hill. 

And 1 will show you fairlies ^ three. 

12 * O see not ye yon narrow road, 

So thick beset wi thorns and briers? 
That is the path of righteousness, 
Tho after it but few enquires. 

13 * And see not ye that braid braid road, 

That lies across yon lillie leven? ^ 50 
That is the path of wickedness, 

Tho some call it the road to heaven. 

14 * And see not ye that bonnie road, 

Which winds about the fernie brae ? 
That is the road to fair Elfland, 

Whe[re] you and I this night maun 
gae. 

15 * But Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, 

Whatever you may hear or see. 
For gin ae word you should chance to 
speak. 
You will neer get back to your ain 
countrie.' 60 

16 He has gotten a coat of the even ^ cloth. 

And a pair of shoes of velvet green, 

And till seven years were past and gone 

True Thomas on earth was never seen. 



THE WEE WEE MAN 

1 As I was wa'king all alone, 

Between a water and a wa,^ 
And there I spy'd a wee wee man, 
And he was the least that ere I saw. 

2 His legs were scarce a shathmont's ^ 

length. 
And thick and thimber^ was his 

thigh ; 
Between his brows there was a span, 
And between his shoulders there was 

three. 



1 wonders. 
4 wall. 



2 glade, lawn. 

B a palm, six inches. 



s smooth. 
6 great. 



3 He took up a raeikle ' stane. 

And he flaug't as far as I could 
see; 10 

Though 1 had been a Wallace wight, 
I couldna liften 't to my knee. 

4 ' O wee wee man, but thou be Strang ! 

O tell me where thy dwelling be? * 
My dwelling 's down at yon bonny 
bower ; 
O will you go with me and see? * 

5 On we lap,^ and awa we rade. 

Till we came to yon bonny green; 
We lighted down for to bait our horse, 
And out there came a lady fine. 20 

6 Four and twenty at her back. 

And they were a' clad out in green; 
Though the King of Scotland had been 

there. 
The warst o them might hae been 

his queen. 

7 On we lap, and awa we rade. 

Till we came to yon bonny ha, 
Whare the roof was o the beaten gould. 
And the floor was o the cristal a'. 

8 When we came to the stair-foot, 

Ladies were dancing, jimp and sma, 30 
But in the twinkling of an eye. 
My wee wee man was clean awa. 



TAM LIN 

10 1 FORBID you, maidens a'. 

That wear gowd on your hair. 

To come or gae by Carterhaugh, 

For young Tarn Lin is there. 

2 There 's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh 

But they leave him a wad,® 
Either their rings, or green mantles, 
Or else their maidenhead. 

3 Janet has kilted i*' her green kirtle 

A little aboon ^^ her knee, 10 

And she has broded her yellow hair 

A little aboon her bree,^^ 
And she 's awa to Carterhaugh, 

As fast as she can hie. 



"i great. 
10 tucked up. 



8 leaped. 
11 above. 



9 pledge. 
12 brow. 



TAM LIN 



269 



4 When she came to Carterhaugh 

Tam Lm was at the well, 
And there she fand his steed standing, 
But away was himsel. 

5 She had na pu'd a double rose, 

A rose but only twa, ac 

Till up then started young Tam Lin, 
Says, ' Lady, thou 's pu nae mae.^ 

6 * Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, 

And why breaks thou the wand ? 
Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh 
Withoutten my command ? ' 

7 ' Carterhaugh, it is my ain. 

My daddie gave it me ; 
I '11 come and gang by Carterhaugh, 
And ask nae leave at thee.' 



30 



8 Janet has kilted her green kirtle 

A little aboon her knee, 
And she has snooded ^ her yellow hair 

A little aboon her bree, 
And she is to her father's ha, 

As fast as she can hie. 

9 Four and twenty ladies fair 

Were playing at the ba, 
And out then cam the fair Janet, 
Ance the flower amang them a'. 40 

10 Four and twenty ladies fair 

Were playing at the chess, 
And out then cam the fair Janet, 
As green as onie glass. 

11 Out then spak an auld grey knight. 

Lay oer the castle wa, 
And says, ' Alas, fair Janet, for thee 
But we '11 be blamed a'.' 

12 * Hand your tongue, ye auld fac'd knight. 

Some ill death may ye die ! 50 

Father my bairn on whom I will, 
I '11 father nane on thee.' 

13 Out then spak her father dear, 

And he spak meek and mild; 
* And ever alas, sweet Janet,' he says, 
*I think thou gaes wi child.* 

14 * If that I gae wi child, father, 

Mysel maun bear the blame; 
^ QO more. s tied in a snood. 



There 's neer a laird about your ha 
Shall get the bairn's name. 60 

15 * If my love were an earthly knight. 

As he 's an elfin grey, 
I wad na gie my ain true-love 
For nae lord that ye hae. 

16 * The steed that my true-love rides on 

Is lighter than the wind ; 
Wi siller he is shod before, 
Wi burning gowd behind.' 

17 Janet has kilted her green kirtle 

A little aboon her knee, 70 

And she has snooded her yellow hair 

A little aboon her bree, 
And she 's awa to Carterhaugh, 

As fast as she can hie. 

18 When she cam to Carterhaugh, 

Tam Lin was at the well. 
And there she fand his steed standing. 
But away was himsel. 

19 She had na pu'd a double rose, 

A rose but only twa, 80 

Till up then started young Tam Lin, 
Says, ' Lady, thou pu's nae mae. 

20 * Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, 

Amang the groves sae green, 
And a' to kill the bonie babe 
That we gat us between? ' 



21 * O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin,' she says, 
* For 's sake that died on tree. 
If eer ye was in holy chapel, y 

Or Christendom did see ? ' / 90 



22 * Roxbrugh he was my grandfather, 

Took me with him to bide. 
And ance it fell upon a day 
That wae did me betide. 

23 * And ance it fell upon a day, 

A cauld day and a snell,^ 
When we were frae the hunting come. 

That frae my horse I fell; 
The Queen o Fairies she caught me. 

In yon green hill to dwell. 100 

24 * And pleasant is the fairy land ; 

But, an eerie tale to tell, 
8 keen. 



270 



BALLADS 



1 



Ay at the end of seven years 

We pay a tiend ^ to hell; 
I am sae fair and fu o flesh, 

I 'm feared it be mysel. 

25 * But the night is Halloween, lady, 

The morn is Hallo wday; 
Then win me, win me, an ye will, 
For weel I wat ye may. no 

26 * Just at the mirk and midnight hour 

The fairy folk will ride, 
And they that wad their true-love win, 
At Miles Cross they maun bide.' 

27 *But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin, 

Or how my true-love know, 
Amang sae mony unco* knights 
The like I never saw ? ' 

28 * O first let pass the black, lady, 

And syne let pass the brown, 120 

But quickly run to the milk-white steed, 
Pu ye his rider down. 

29 * For I '11 ride on the milk-white steed, 

And ay nearest the town; 
Because I was an earthly knight 
They gie me that renown. 

30 * My right hand will be glovd, lady, 

My left hand will be bare, 
Cockt up shall my bonnet be, 

And kaimd down shall my hair, 130 
And thae 's the takens I gie thee, 

Nae doubt I will be there. 

31 ' They '11 turn me in your arms, lady. 

Into an esk ^ and adder; 
But hold me fast and fear me not, 
I am your bairn's father. 

32 * They '11 turn me to a bear sae grim. 

And then a lion bold; 
But hold me fast and fear me not. 
As ye shall love your child. 140 

33 * Again they '11 turn me in your arms 

To a red het gaud of airn ; * 
But hold me fast, and fear me not, 
1 '11 do to you nae harm. 

34 'And last they '11 turn me in your arms 

Into the burning gleed;^ 



» tithe. « strange. 

< red-hot bar of iron. 



8 newt. 
B coal. 



Then throw me into well water, 

throw me in wi speed. 

35 * And then I '11 be your ain true-love, 

1 '11 turn a naked knight; 150 
Then cover me wi your green mantle, 

And cover me out o sight.' 

36 Gloomy, gloomy was the night, 

And eerie was the way, 
As fair Jenny in her green mantle 
To Miles Cross she did gae. 

37 About the middle o the night 

She heard the bridles ring; 
This lady was as glad at that 

As any earthly thing. i6o 

38 First she let the black pass by. 

And syne she let the brown; 
But quickly she ran to the milk-white 
steed. 
And pu'd the rider down. 

39 Sae weel she minded what he did say. 

And young Tam Lin did win; 
Syne coverd him wi her green mantle. 
As blythe 's a bird in spring. 

40 Out then spak the Queen o Fairies, 

Out of a bush o broom: 170 

' Them that has gotten young Tam Lin 
Has gotten a stately groom.' 

41 Out then spak the Queen o Fairies, 

And an angry woman was she: 
* Shame betide her ill-far'd ^ face. 

And an ill death may she die, 
For she 's taen awa the boniest knight 

In a' my companie. 

42 * But had I kend, Tam Lin,' she says, 

* What now this night I see, 180 

I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een, 
And put in twa een o tree.''^ 



YOUNG AKIN OR HIND ETIN^ 

1 Lady Margaret sits in her bower door, 
Sewing at her silken seam ; 
She heard a note in Elmond's wood, 
And wishd she there had been. 

« ill-favored. ' wood. 

6 This story of a mortal and her fairy husband has 
suffered iu the handing down of it. 



YOUNG AKIN OR HIND ETIN 



271 



2 She loot 1 the seam fa frae her side, 

And the needle to her tae, 
And she is on to Elmond's wood 
As fast as she coud gae. 

3 She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 

Nor broken a branch but ane, 10 

Till by it came a young hind chiel,^ 
Says, * Lady, lat alane. 

4 * O why pu ye the nut, the nut, 

Or why brake ye the tree ? 
For I am forester o this wood: 
Ye shoud spier s leave at me.' 

5 * I '11 ask leave at no living man. 

Nor yet will I at thee; 
My father is king oer a' this realm, 
This wood belongs to me.' 20 

6 She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 

Nor broken a branch but three. 
Till by it came him Yomig Akin, 
And gard her lat them be. 

7 The highest tree in Elmond's wood. 

He 's pu'd it by the reet ^ 
And he has built for her a bower, 
Near by a hallow ^ seat. 

8 He 's built a bower, made it secure 

Wi carbuncle and stane; 30 

Tho travellers were never sae nigh, 
Appearance it had nane. 

9 He 's kept her there in Elmond's wood. 

For six lang years and one, 
Till six pretty sons to him she bear, 
And the seventh she 's brought home. 

10 It fell ance upon a day, 

This guid lord went from home, 
And he is to the hunting gane. 

Took wi him his eldest son. 40 

11 And when they were on a guid way, 

Wi slowly pace did walk, 
The boy's heart being something wae, 
He thus began to talk: 

12 * A question I woud ask, father. 

Gin ye woudna angry be; ' 
* Say on, say on, my bonny boy. 
Ye 'se nae be quarrelld by me.* 
« let. « courteous youth. « ask. * root. » hollow. 



13 * I see my mither's cheeks aye weet, 

I never can see them dry; 50 

And I wonder what aileth my mither, 
To mourn continually.' 

14 * Your mither was a king's daughter, 

Sprung frae a high degree. 
And she might hae wed some worthy 



prince, 
Had she nae been stown ' 



by me. 



60 



70 



15 * I was her father's cup-bearer. 

Just at that fatal time; 
I catchd her on a misty night, 
Whan summer was in prime. 

16 * My luve to her was most sincere. 

Her luve was great for me. 
But when she hardships doth endure, 
Her folly she does see.' 

17 * I '11 shoot the buntin o the bush. 

The linnet o the tree. 
And bring them to my dear mither. 
See if she "11 merrier be.' 

18 It fell upo another day. 

This guid lord he thought lang. 
And he is to the hunting gane, 
Took wi him his dog and gun. 

19 Wi bow and arrow by his side. 

He 's aff, single, alane, 
And left his seven children to stay 
Wi their mither at hame. 



20 * O I will tell to you, mither. 

Gin ye wadna angry be: ' 
* Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy. 
Ye 'se nae be quarrelld by me.' 80 

21 ' As we came frae the hynd-hunting. 

We heard fine music ring: ' 
' My blessings on you, my bonny boy, 
I wish 1 'd been there my lane.' ''' 

22 He 's taen his mither by the hand, 

His six brithers also, 
And they are on thro Elmond's wood, 
As fast as they coud go. 

23 They wistna weel where they were gaen, 

Wi the stratlins 8 o their feet; 90 

They wist na weel where they were gaen, 

Till at her father's yate.« 
6 stolen. "> alone. ^ stridings. s gate. 



272 



BALLADS 



24 • I hae nae money in my pocket, 

But royal rings hae three; 
1 '11 gie them you, my little young son. 
And ye '11 walk there for me. 

25 * Ye '11 gie the first to the proud porter, 

And he will lat you in; 
Ye '11 gie the next to the butler-boy, 
And he will show you ben; ^ 100 

26 < Ye '11 gie the third to the minstrel 

That plays before the king; 
He '11 play success to the bonny boy 
Came thro the wood him lane.' ^ 

27 He gae the first to the proud porter, 

And he opend an let him in; 
He gae the next to the butler-boy, 
And he has shown him ben; 

28 He gae the third to the minstrel 

That playd before the king; no 

And he playd success to the bonny boy 
Came thro the wood him lane. 

29 Now when he came before the king. 

Fell low down on his knee; 
The king he turned round about. 
And the saut tear blinded his ee. 

30 * Win 3 up, win up, my bonny boy, 

Gang frae my companie; 
Ye look sae like my dear daughter, 
My heart will birst in three.' 120 

31 * If I look like your dear daughter, 

A wonder it is none ; 
If I look like your dear daughter, 
I am her eldest son.' 

32 * Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy. 

Where may ray Margaret be ? ' 

* She 's just now standing at your yates. 

And my six brithers her wi.' 

33 * where are all my porter-boys 

That I pay meat and fee, 130 

To open my yates baith wide and braid ? 
Let her come in to me.' 

34 When she came in before the king, 

Fell low down on her knee; 

* Win up, win up, my daughter dear, 

This day ye '11 dine wi me.' 
1 in. 3 alone. * Get. 



35 'Ae bit I canno eat, father. 

Nor ae drop can I drink. 
Till I see my mither and sister dear. 
For lang for them I think.' 140 

36 When she came before the queen, 

Fell low down on her knee; 

* Win up, win up, my daughter dear. 

This day ye 'se dine wi me.' 

37 * Ae bit I canno eat, mither. 

Nor ae drop can I drink. 
Until I see my dear sister. 
For lang for her I think.* 

38 When that these two sisters met. 

She haild her courteouslie; 130 

* Come ben, come ben, my sister dear. 

This day ye 'se dine wi me/ 

39 ' Ae bit I canno eat, sister, 

Nor ae drop can I drink. 

Until I see my dear husband, 

For lang for him I think.' 

40 * O where are all my rangers bold 

That I pay meat and fee. 
To search the forest far an wide. 

And bring Akin to me ? ' j6o 

41 Out it speaks the little wee boy: 

* Na, na, this maunna ^ be; 
Without ye grant a free pardon, 
1 hope ye '11 nae him see.' 

42 ' O here I grant a free pardon. 

Well seald by my own ban; 
Ye may make search for Young Akin, 
As soon as ever you can.' 

43 They searchd the country wide and braid. 

The forests far and near, 170 

And found him into Elmond's wood. 
Tearing his yellow hair. 

44 ' Win up, win up now. Young Akin, 

Win up, and boun ^ wi me ; 
We 're messengers come from the court, 
The king wants you to see.' 

45 * O lat him take frae me my bead, 

Or hang me on a tree; 
For since I 've lost my dear lady. 
Life 's no pleasure to me.* 180 

* must not. 6 go. 



CLERK COLVILL 



273 



! 46 * Your head will nae be touchd, Akin, 

Nor hangd upou a tree; 
' Your lady 's in her father's court, 

And all he wants is thee.' 

j 47 Wlien he came in before the king, 
Fell low down on his knee; 
* Win up, win up now, Young Akin, 
This day ye 'se dine wi me.' 

48 But as they were at dinner set. 

The boy asked a bouu: 190 

' I wish we were in the good church. 
For to get christendoun. 

49 * We hae lived in guid green wood 

This seven years and ane; 
But a' this time, since eer I mind. 
Was never a church within.' 

ij 60 ' Your asking 's nae sae great, my 
I: boy, 

But granted it shall be; 
This day to guid church ye shall gang, 

And your mither shall gang you wi.' 

51 When unto the guid church she came. 

She at the door did stan; 202 

She was sae sair sunk do^vn wi shame, 
She coudna come farer ben. 

52 Then out it speaks the parish priest, 
i And a sweet smile gae he: 

*Come ben, come ben, my lily flower. 
Present your babes to me.' 

53 Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick, 

And likewise James and John; a 10 
They calld the eldest Young Akin, 
Which was his father's name. 

54 Then they staid in the royal court. 

And livd wi mirth and glee, 
And when her father was deceasd, 
I Heir of the crown was she. 



CLERK COLVILL 

Clark Colven and his gay ladie, 

As they walked to yon garden green, 
A belt about her middle gimp,^ 

Which cost Clark Colven crowns fif- 
teen; 

1 slender. 



2 * O hearken weel now, my good lord, 

O hearken weel to what I say; 
When ye gang to the wall o Stream, 

gang nae neer the well-fared may.' ^ 

3 * O hand your tongue, my gay ladie, 

Tak nae sic care o me; 10 

For I nae saw a fair woman 

1 like so well as thee.' 

4 He mounted on his berry-brown steed. 

And merry, merry rade he on, 
Till he came to the wall o Stream, 
And there he saw the mermaiden. 

5 * Ye wash, ye wa,sh, ye bonny may, 

And ay 's ye wash your saik o silk: ' 
* It 's a' for you, ye gentle knight. 
My skin is wliiter than the milk.' 20 

6 He 's taen her by the milk-white hand. 

He 's taen her by the sleeve sae 
green. 
And he 's forgotten his gay ladie. 
And away -with the fair maiden. 



7 ' Ohon, alas ! ' says Clark Colven, 

' And aye sae sair 's I mean my head ! ' 
And merrily lengh^ the mermaiden, 
* O win on till you be dead. 

8 * But out ye tak your little pen-knife. 

And frae my sark ye shear a gare;^ 
Row * that about your lovely head, 31 
And the pain ye '11 never feel nae 
mair.' 

9 Out he has taen his little pen-knife, 

And frae her sark he 's shorn a gare, 
Rowed that about his lovely head, 
But the pain increased mair and 
mair. 

10 * Ohon, alas ! ' says Clark Colven, 

' An aye sae sair 's I mean my head ! ' 
And merrily laughd the mermaiden, 
' It will ay be war ^ till ye be dead.' 40 

11 Then out he drew his trusty blade, 

And thought wi it to be her dead,''^ 
But she 's become a fish again. 

And merrily sprang into the fleed. 



» well-favored maid. 
BRoU. 



3 laughed. 
9 worse. 



* gore, strip. 
» death. 



274 



BALLADS 



12 He 's mounted on his berry-brown steed, 
And dowy, dowy rade he home, 
And heavily, heavily lighted down 
When to his ladie's bower-door he 



13 * Oh, mither, mither, mak my bed, 

And, gentle ladie, lay me down; 50 
Oh, brither, brither, unbend my bow, 
'Twill never be bent by me again.' 

14 His mither she has made his bed. 

His gentle ladie laid him down, 

His brither he has unbent his bow, 

'T was never bent by him again. 



KING JOHN AND THE BISHOPi 

1 Off an ancient story He tell you anon, 
Of a notable prince that was called Kmg 

lohn, 
In England was borne, with maine and 

with might; 
Hee did much wrong and mainteined 

litle right. 

2 This noble prince was vexed in veretye, 
For he was angry with the Bishopp of 

Canterbury; 
Ffor his house-keeping and his good 

cheere, 
Thd^ rode post for him, as you shall 

heare. 

3 They rode post for him verry hastilye; 
The km^ sayd the bishopp kept a better 

house then hee: 10 

A hundred men even, as I [have heard] 

say. 
The bishopp kept in his house e^eryQ 

day. 
And fifty gold chaines, without any 

doubt. 
In velvett coates waited the bishopp 

about. 

4 The bishopp, he came to the court anon, 
Before his prince that was called l^ing 

lohn. 
As soone as the bishopp the \dng did see, 
* O,' qwoth the kin^, * bishopp, thow art 

welcome to mee. 

» This story appears to be of Oriental origin, and there 
are many versions of it East and West. 2 They. 



There is noe man soe welcome to towne 
As thou that workes treason against my 



5 ' My leege,' qwoth the bishopp, * I wold 

it were knowne 
I spend, yowr grace, nothing but that 

that 's my owne ; 
I trust your grace will doe me noe 

deare ^ 
For spending my owne trew gotten 

geere.' 

6 ' Yes,' quoth the kin^, * bishopp, thou 

must needs dye, 
Eccept thou can answere mee questions 

three; 
Thy head shalbe smitten quite from thy 

bodye, 
And all thy living remayne unto mee. 

7 ' First,' quoth the 'king^ ' tell me in this 

steade. 
With this crowne of gold heere vpon 

my head, 30 

Amongst my nobilitye, with ioy and 

much mirth, 
Lett me know within one pennye what 

I am worth. 

8 ' Secondlye, tell me without any dowbt. 
How soone I may goe the whole world 

about; 
And thirdly, tell mee or ever I stinte, 
What is the thing, bishopp, that I doe 

thinke. 
Twenty dayes pardon thoust ^ have 

trulye. 
And come againe and answere mee.' 

9 The bishopp bade the "king god night att 

a word ; 
He rode betwixt Cambridge and Oxen- 
ford, 40 
But never a doctor there was soe wise 
Cold shew him these questions or enter- 
prise. 

10 Wherewith the bishopp was nothing 

gladd, 
But in his hart was heavy and sadd, 
And hyed him home to a house in the 

countrye. 
To ease some part of his melanchollye. 

> harm. < thou shalt. 



KING JOHN AND THE BISHOP 



275 



11 His half e-brother dwelt there, was f eirce 

and fell, 
Noe better but a shepard to the bish- 

oppe himsell; 
The shepard came to the bishopp anon. 
Saying, *My Lord, you are welcome 

home ! ' 50 

12 * What ayles you,* quoth the shepard, 

* that you are soe sadd, 
And had wonte to have beene soe merry 

and gladd ? ' 
* Nothing,' quoth the bishopp, *I ayle 

att this time; 
Will not thee availe to know, brother 



13 * Brother,' quoth the shepeard, *you 

have heard itt, 
That a ffoole may teach a wisemane witt; 
Say me therfore whatsoever you will, 
And if I doe you noe good, lie doe you 

noe ill.' 



14 



15 



^ 16 



Quoth the bishop: * I have beene att the 

court anon, 
Before my prince is called King lohn, 60 
And there he hath charged mee 
Against his crowne with traitorye. 

* If I cannott answer his misterye, 
Three questions hee hath propounded to 

mee, 
He will have my land soe faire and free, 
And alsoe the head from my bodye. 

* The first question was, to tell him in 

that stead, 
W^th the crowne of gold vpon his head, 
Amongst his nobilitye, w^th ioy and 

much mirth. 
To lett him know wz'thin one penye 

what hee is worth. 70 



17 * And secondlye, to tell him with-out any 

doubt 
How soone he may goe the whole world 

about ; 
And thirdlye, to tell him, or ere I stint, 
What is the thiuge that he does thinke.' 

18 * Brother,' quoth the shepard, * you are 

a man of learninge ; 
What neede you stand in doubt of soe 
small a thinge ? 



Lend me,' quoth the shepard, *your 

ministers apparrell, 
He ryde to the court and answere your 

quarrell. 

19 *Lend me your serving men, say me 

not nay, 
With all your best horsses that ryd on 

the way; 80 

He to the court, this matter to stay; 
He speake with King lohn and heare 

what heele say.' 

20 The bishopp with speed prepared then 
To sett forth the shepard with horsse 

and man; 
The shepard was lively without any 

doubt; 
I wott a royall companye came to the 

court. 

21 The shepard hee came to the court anon 
Before [his] prince that was called 

K:ing lohn. 
As soone as the kin^ the shepard did 

see. 
* O,' quoth the king, ' bishopp, thou art 

welcome to me.' 90 

The shepard was soe like the bishopp 

his brother, 
The 'king cold not know the one from 

the other. 

22 Quoth the kin^, 'Bishopp, thou art wel- 

come to me 
If thou can answer me my questions 

three.' 
Said the shepeard, ' If it please your 

grace. 
Show mee what the first quest[i]on 

was.' 

23 ' First,' quoth the kin^', * tell mee in this 

stead. 
With the crowne of gold vpon my head, 
Amongst my nobilitye, with ioy and 

much mirth, 
Within one pennye what I am worth.' 100 

24 Quoth the shepard. * To make your grace 

noe offence, 
I thinke you are worth nine and twenty 

pence; 
For our Lorcf lesus, that bought vs all, 
For thirty pence was sold into thrall 



276 



BALLADS 



Amongst the cursed lewes, as I to you 
doe showe; 

But I know Christ was one penye bet- 
ter then you.' 

25 Then the king laught, and swore by St 

Andrew 
He was not thought to bee of such a 
small value. 

* Secondlye, tell mee wzth-out any doubt 
How soone I may goe the world round 

about.' no 

26 Saies the shepard, * It is noe time with 

your grace to scorne, 
But rise betime with the sun in the 

morne, 
And follow his course till his uprising, 
And then you may know without any 

leasing.! 

27 * And this [to] yowr grace shall prove the 

same, 
You are come to the same place from 

whence you came; 
[In] twenty-four houres, with-out any 

doubt, 
Your grace may the world goe round 

about; 
The world round about, even as I doe 

say, 
If with the sun you can goe the next 

way.' I20 

28 * And thirdlye tell me or ever I stint, 
What is the thing, bishoppe, that I doe 

thinke.' 

* That shall I doe,' quoth the shepeard; 

* for veretye. 
You thinke I am the bishopp of Canter- 
burye.' 

29 « Why, art not thou ? the truth tell to 

me; 
For I doe thinke soe,' qwoth the kin^, 

< by St Marye.' 
*Not soe,' quoth the shepeard; 'the 

truth shalbe knowne, 
I am his poore shepeard; my brother is 

att home.' 

30 *Why,' qwoth the kin^, *if itt soe 

bee. 
He make thee bishopp here to mee.' 130 
1 lying. 



* Noe, Sir,' quoth the shepard, ' I pray 

you be still. 
For He not bee bishop but against my 

will; 
For I am not fitt for any such deede, 
For I can neither write nor reede.' 

31 * Why then,' quoth the king, ' He give 

thee cleere 
A pattent of three himdred pound a 

yeere; 
That I will give thee franke and free; 
Take thee that, shepard, for coming to 

me. 

32 * Free pardon He give,' the kin^s grace 

said, 

* To save the bishopp, his land and his 

head ; 140 

With him nor thee He be nothing wrath; 
Here is the pardon for him and thee 

both.' 

33 Then the shepard he had noe more to 

say. 
But tooke the pardon and rode his way; 
When he came to the bishopps place. 
The bishopp asket anon how all things 



34 'Brother,' quoth the shepard, *I have 

well sped. 
For I have saved both your land and 

your head; 
The king with you is nothing wrath. 
For heere is the pardon for you and mee 

both.' 150 

35 Then the bishopes hart was of a merry 

cheere: 
'Brother, thy paines He quitt them 

cleare; 
For I will give thee a patent to thee and 

to thine 
Of fifty pound a yeere, land good and 

fine.' 

36 



* I will to thee noe longer croche ^ nor 

creepe, 
Nor He serve thee noe more to keepe 

thy sheepe.' 

i crouch. 



YOUNG BICHAM 



277 



37 Whereever wist you shepard before, 
That had in his head witt such store 
To pleasure a bishopp in such a like case, 
To answer three questions to the kin^s 

grace ? 160 

Whereever wist you shepard gett cleare 
Three hundred and fifty pound a yeere ? 

38 I never hard of his fellow before, 

Nor I never shall : now I need to say 

noe more. 
I never knew shepeard that gott such a 

livinge 
But David, the shepeard, that was a 'king. 



YOUNG BICHAM 1 

1 In London city was Bicham born, 

He longd strange countries for to see, 
But he was taen by a savage Moor, 
Who handld him right cruely. 

2 For thro his shoulder he put a bore,^ 

An thro the bore has pitten a tree,^ 
An he 's gard ^ him draw the carts o wine, 
Where horse and oxen had wont to be. 

3 He 's casten [him] in a dungeon deep, 9 

Where he coud neither hear nor see ; 
He 's shut him up in a prison strong. 
And he 's handld him right cruely. 

4 O this Moor he had but ae daughter, 

I wot her name was Shusy Pye; 
She 's doen her to the prison-house. 
And she 's calld Young Bicham one 
word by. 

5 * O hae ye ony lands or rents, 

Or citys in your ain country, 
Coud free you out of prison strong, 
An coud mantain a lady free? ' 20 

6 * O London city is my own, 

An other citys twa or three 
Coud loose me out o prison strong, 
An coud mantain a lady free.' 

7 O she has bribed her father's men 

Wi meikle goud ^ and white money. 

She 's gotten the key o the prison doors. 

An she has set Young Bicham free. 

J LordBateman is a later version of this popular theme. 
» hole. 3 put a stick. * compelled, b much gold. 



8 She 's gi'n him a loaf o good white bread. 

But an a flask o Spanish wine, 30 

An she bad him mind on the ladie's love 

That sae kindly freed him out o pine. 

9 ' Go set your foot on good ship-board. 

An haste you back to your ain coun- 
try, 
An before that seven years has an end, 
Come back again, love, and marry 
me.' 

10 It was long or seven years had an end 

She longd fu sair her love to see; 
She's set her foot on good ship-board. 
An turnd her back on her ain coun- 
try. 40 

11 She 's saild up, so has she doun. 

Till she came to the other side; 
She 's landed at Young Bicham 's gates. 
An I hop this day she sal be his bride. 

12 * Is this Young Bicham's gates ? ' says 

she, 
* Or is that noble prince within ? ' 

* He 's up the stairs wi his bonny bride, 

An monny a lord and lady wi him.' 

13 * O has he taen a bonny bride. 

An has he clean forgotten me I ' 50 
An sighing said that gay lady, 

' I wish I were in my ain country ! * 

14 But she 's pitten her han in her pocket, 

An gin^ the porter guineas three; 
Says, ' Take ye that, ye proud porter, 
An bid the bridegroom speak to me.' 

15 O whan the porter came up the stair. 

He 's fa'n low down upon his knee: 

* Won " up, won up, ye proud porter, 

An what makes a' this courtesy ? ' 60 

16 * O I 've been porter at your gates 

This mair nor seven years an three, 
But there is a lady at them now 
The like of whom I never did see. 

17 * For on every finger she has a ring, 

An on the mid-finger she has three. 
An there 's as meikle goud^ aboon her 
brow 
As woud buy an earldome o Ian to me.' 
« given. "J Get. 8 much gold. 



278 



BALLADS 



18 Then up it started Young Bieham, 


4 then bespoke Mary, 


An sware so loud by Our T.ady, 70 


so meek and so mild: 


' It can be nane but Shushy Pye, 


< Pluck me one cherry, Joseph, 


That has come oer the sea to me.' 


for I am with child.' 


19 quickly ran he down the stair, 


5 then bespoke Joseph, 


0' fifteen steps he has made but 


with words most unkind: 


three; 


'Let him pluck thee a cherry- 


He 's tane his bonny love in his arms, 


that brought thee with child.' 20 


An a wot he kissd her tenderly. 






6 then bespoke the babe, 


20 * hae you taen a bonny bride ? 


within his mother's womb: 


An hae you quite forsaken me ? 


*Bow down then the tallest tree, 


An hae ye quite forgotten her 


for my mother to have some.' 


That gae you life an liberty ? ' 80 






7 Then bowed down the highest tree 


21 She 's lookit oer her left shoulder 


unto his mother's hand ; 


To hide the tears stood in her ee; 


Then she cried, 'See, Joseph, 


* Now fare thee well, Young Bieham,' 


I have cherries at command.' 


she says. 




<I '11 strive to think nae mair on 


8 then bespake Joseph: 


thee.' 


' I have done Mary wrong; 30 




But cheer up, my dearest. 


22 * Take back your daughter, madam,' he 


and be not cast down.' 


says, 
*An a double dowry I '11 gi her wi; 


9 Then Mary plucked a cherry, 


For I maun marry my first true love, 


as red as the blood. 


That 's done and suffered so much for 


Then Mary went home 


me.' 


with her heavy load. 


23 He 's take his bonny love by the han. 


10 Then Mary took her babe, 


And led her to yon fountain stane; 90 


and sat him on her knee, 


He 's changd her name f rae Shusy Pye, 


Saying, ' My dear son, tell me 


An he 's cald her his bonny love, 


what this world will be.' 40 


Lady Jane. 






11 ' I shall be as dead, mother. 




as the stones in the wall; 


THE CHERRY-TREE CAROLS 


the stones in the streets, mother. 




shall mourn for me all. 


1 Joseph was an old man. 




and an old man was he, 


12 * Upon Easter-day, mother, 


When he wedded Mary, 


my uprising shall be; 


in the land of Galilee. 


the sun and the moon, mother. 




shall both rise with me.' 


2 Joseph and Mary walked 




through an orchard good. 




Where was cherries and berries, 




so red as any blood. 


SIR PATRICK SPENCE2 


3 Joseph and Mary walked 


1 The king sits in Dumferling toune. 


through an orchard green, 10 


Drinking the blude-reid wine: 


Where was berries and cherries, 


* whar will I get guid sailor, 


as thick as might be seen. 


To sail this schip of mine ? ' 


1 This story is founded on the gospel of the Pseudo- 


! One of the best ballads, historical sounding, but not 


Matthew, XX. 


historical in any strict sense. 



KING ESTMERE 



279 



2 Up and spak an eldern knicht, 

Sat at the kings richt kne: 
* Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor 
That sails upon the se.' 

3 The king has written a braid ^ letter, 

And signd it wi his hand, 10 

And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, 
Was walking on the sand. 

4 The first line that Sir Patrick red, 

A loud lauch ^ lauched he; 
The next line that Sir Patrick red. 
The teir blinded his ee. 

5 * O wha is this has don this deid, 

This ill deid don to me, 
To send me out this time o' the 
yeir, 
To sail upon the se ! 20 

6 ' Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men 

all, 
Our guid schip sails the morne: ' 
*0 say na sae, my master deir. 
For I feir a deadlie storme. 



7 'Late late 



I 



the 



yestreen 
moone, 
Wi the auld moone in hir arme. 
And I feir, I feir, my deir master, 
That we will cum to harme.' 

8 O our Scots nobles wer richt laith 

To weet their cork-heild scboone; 30 
Bot lang owre ^ a' the play wer 
playd, 
Thair hats they swam aboone.^ 

9 lang, lang may their ladies sit, 

Wi tliair fans into their hand, 
Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence 
Cum sailing to the land. 

10 O lang, lang may the ladies stand, 

W^i thair gold kems ^ in their hair, 
Waiting for thair ain deir lords. 

For they '11 se thame na mair. 40 

11 Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour, 

It 's fiftie fadom deip, 
And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, 
Wi the Scots lords at his feit. 



1 broad. 
4 above. 



2 laugh. 
B combs. 



* before. 



KING ESTMERE 6 

1 Hearken to me, gentlemen, 

Come and you shall heare; 
He tell you of two of the boldest bre- 
ther 
That ever borne were. 

2 The tone of them was Adler Younge, 

The tother was Kyng Estmere; 
The were as bolde men in their deeds 
As any were, farr and neare. 

3 As they were drinking ale and wine 

W^ithin his brother's hall, 10 

* When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, 

A wyfe to glad us all ? ' 

4 Then bespake him Kyng Estmere, 

And answered him hartilye: 

* I know not that ladye in any land, 

That 's able to marrye with mee.' 

5 ' Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, 

Men call her bright and sheene; 
If I were kyng here in your stead. 
That ladye shold be my queene.' 20 

6 Saies, ' Reade ^ me, reade me, deare bro- 

ther, 
Throughout merry England, 
W^here we might find a messenger 
Betwixt us towe to sende.' 

7 Saies, * You shal ryde yourselfe, brother, 

He beare you companye; 
Many a man throughe fals messengers 
is deceived. 
And I feare lest soe shold wee.' 

8 Thus the renisht ^ them to ryde. 

Of twoe good renisht steeds, 30 

And when the came to King Adlands 
halle. 
Of redd gold shone their weeds. 

9 And when the came to Kyng Adlands 

hall, 
Before the goodlye gate. 
There they found good Kyng Adland 
Rearing himselfe theratt. 

« We possess this spirited ballad, unfortunately, only 
as touched up by Bishop Percy. Adler and Estmere 
occur again in the Percy Folio MS., ed. Hales and 
Furnivall, n, 296, and there Adler gets a fine wife. 

' Advise. 8 they prepared. 



2Bo 



BALLADS 



1 



10 ' Now Christ thee save, good Kyng 
Adland; 
Now Christ you save and see:' 
Sayd, * You be welcome, King Estmere, 



Right hartilye to mee. 



40 



11 *You have a daughter,' said Adler 

Younge, 
* Men call her bright and sheene ; 
My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, 
Of Englande to be queene.' 

12 * Yesterday was att my deere daughter 

The king his sonne of Spayn, 
And then she nicked him of naye,^ 
And I doubt sheele do you the same.' 

13 ' The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, 

And 'leeveth on Mahound,^ 50 

And pitye it were that fayre ladye 
Shold marry a heathen hound.' 

14 * But grant to me,' sayes Kyng Estmere, 

' For my love I you praye, 
That I may see your daughter deere 
Before I goe hence awaye.' 

15 * Although itt is seven yeers and more 

Since my daughter was in halle, 
She shall come once downe for your sake. 
To glad my guestes alle.' 60 

16 Downe then came that mayden fayre. 

With ladyes laced in pall, 
And halfe a hundred of bold knightes, 

To bring her [from] bowre to hall, 
And as many gentle squiers. 

To tend upon them all. 

17 The talents of golde were on her head 

sette 
Hanged low downe to her knee, 
And everye ring on her small finger 
Shone of the chrystall free. 70 

18 Sales, ' God you save, my deere madam,' 

Sales, • God you save and see : ' 
Said, * You be welcome, Kyng Estmere, 
Right welcome unto mee. 

19 * And, if you love me, as you saye, 

Soe well and hartilee, 
All that ever you are comen about 
Soone sped now itt shal bee.' 
1 said him nay. 2 Mahomet. 



20 Then bespake her father deare: 

* My daughter, I saye naye ; 80 

Remember well the kyng of Spayne, 
What he sayd yesterdaye. 

21 'He wold pull downe my halles and castles, 

And reave me of my lyfe; 
I cannot blame him if he doe. 
If I reave him of his wyfe.' 

22 * Your castles and your towres, father. 

Are stronglye built aboute. 
And therefore of the king his sonnc of 
Spaine 
Wee neede not stande in doubt. 90 

23 'Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng 

Estmere, 
By heaven and your righte hand. 
That you will marrye me to your wife. 
And make me queene of your land.' 

24 Then Kyng Estmere he plight his troth. 

By heaven and his righte hand. 
That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe, 
And make her queene of his land. 

25 And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, 

To goe to his owne countree, 100 

To fetche him dukes and lordes and 
knightes. 
That marryed the might bee. 

26 They had not ridden scant a myle, 

A myle for the of the towne, 
But in did come the kyng of Spayne, 
With kempes ^ many one. 

27 But in did come the kyng of Spayne, 

With manye a bold barone. 
Tone day to marrye Kyng Adlands 
daughter, 
Tother daye to carrye her home, no 

28 Shee sent one after Kyng Estmere, 

In all the spede might bee. 
That he must either turne againe and 
fighte. 
Or goe home and loose his ladye. 

29 One whyle then the page he went, 

Another while he ranne ; 
Till he had oretaken King Estmere, 
I-wis he never blanne.^ 
> champions. * stopped. 



KING ESTMERE 



281 



30 * Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere ! ' 

* What tydings nowe, my boye ? ' 120 
* O tydinges I can tell to you, 
That will you sore annoye. 

31 'You had not ridden scant a mile, 

A mile out of the towne, 
But in did come the kyng of Spayne, 
With kempes many a one. 

32 * But in did come the kyng of Spayne, 

With manye a bold barone, 
Tone daye to manye King Adlands 
daughter, 
Tother daye to carry her home. 130 

33 * My ladye fayre she greetes you well, 

And ever-more well by mee; 
You must either turne againe and fighte. 
Or goe home and loose your ladye. ' 

34 Saies, 'Reade me, reade me, deere bro- 

ther, 
My reade shall ryse at thee,i 
Whether it is better to turne and fighte. 
Or goe home and loose my ladye.' 

35 ' Nowhearkentome,' sayes AdlerYonge, 

' And your reade must rise at me; 140 
I quicklye will devise a waye 
To sette thy ladye free. 

36 * My mother was a westerne woman. 

And learned in gramarye,^ 
And when I learned at the schole, 
Something shee taught itt mee. 

37 * There growes an hearbe within this field, 

And iff it were but knowne, 
His color, which is whyte and redd. 
It will make blacke and browne. 150 

38 * His color, which is browne and blacke, 

Itt will make redd and whyte; 
That sworde is not in all Englande 
Upon his coate will byte. 

39 * And you shal be a harper, brother, 

Ont of the north countrye, 
And He be your boy, soe faine of fighte. 
And bears your harpe by your knee. 

40 * And you shal be the best harper 

That ever tooke harpe in hand, i6o 
1 jJLy counsel shall come from you. > magic. 



And I wil be the best singer 
That ever sung in this lande. 

41 * Itt shal be written in our forheads, 

All and in gramuiarye, 
That we towe are the boldest men 
That are in all Christentye.' 

42 And thus they renisht them to ryde, 

Of tow good renisht steedes, 
And when they came to King Adlands 
hall, 
Of redd gold shone their weedes. 170 

43 And whan the came to Kyng Adlands hall 

Until the fayre hall-yate. 
There they found a proud porter. 
Rearing himselfe thereatt. 

44 Sayes, 'Christ thee save, thou proud 

porter,' 
Sayes, * Christ thee save and see: ' 

* Nowe you be welcome,' sayd the porter, 

* Of what land soever ye bee.' 

45 ' Wee beene harpers,' sayd Adler Younge, 

' Come out of the northe countrye; 180 
Wee beene come liither untill this place 
This proud weddinge for to see.' 

46 Sayd, * And your color were white and 

redd, 
As it is blacke and browne, 
I wold saye King Estmere and his brother 
Were comen untill this towne.' 

47 Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, 

Layd itt on the porters arme: 

* And 3 ever we will thee,^ proud porter, 

Thou wilt saye us no harme.' 190 

48 Sore he looked on Kyng Estmere, 

And sore he handled the ryng. 
Then opened to them the fayre hall-yates, 
He lett ^ for no kind of thyng. 

49 Kyng Estmere he stabled his steede 

Soe fayre att the hall-bord; 
The froth that came from his brydle bitte 
Light in Kyng Bremors beard. 

50 Saies, ' Stable thy steed, thou proud 

harper,' 
Saies, ' Stable him in the stalle ; 200 
If. « thrive. * delayed. 



282 



BALLADS 



It doth not beseeme a proud harper 
To stable his steede in a kyngs halle.* 

51 *My ladde he is so lither,'i he said, 

* He will doe nought that's meete; 
And is there any man in this hall 

Were able him to beate ? ' 

52 * Thou speakst proud words,' sayes the 

king of Spaine, 
*Thou harper, here to mee; 
There is a man within this halle 

Will beate thy ladd and thee.' 210 

53 * O let that man come downe,' he said, 

* A sight of him wold I see ; 

And when hee hath beaten well my ladd, 
Then he shall beate of mee.' 

54 Downe then came the kemperye 2 man, 

And looked him in the eare; 
For all the gold that was under heaven, 
He durst not neigh ^ him neare. 

55 * And how nowe, kempe,' said the kynge 

of Spaine, 

* And how, what aileth thee ? ' 220 
He sales, 'It is writt in his forhead. 

All and in gramarye, 
That for all the gold thatis under heaven, 
I dare not neigh him nye.' 

56 Then Kyng Estmere pulld forth his 

harpe, 
And plaid a pretty thinge; 
The ladye upstart from the borde, 
And wold have gone from the king. 

67 ' Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper. 

For Gods love I pray thee; 230 

For and thou playes as thou beginns, 
Thou 'It till^ my bryde from mee.' 

58 He stroake upon his harpe againe. 

And playd a pretty thinge ; 
The ladye lough a loud laughter. 
As shee sate by the king. 

59 Sales, * Sell me thy harpe, thou proud 

harper, 
And thy stringes all; 
For as many gold nobles thou shalt have, 
As heere bee ringes in the hall.' 240 



1 rascally. 

8 nigh, approach. 



2 fighting. 
4 toll, entice. 



60 * What wold ye doe with my harpe,' he 



*If Idid sell ittyee?' 
' To pi aye my witfe and me a fitt, 
When abed together wee bee.' 

61 * Now sell me,' quoth hee, • thy bryde 

soe gay. 
As shee sitts by thy knee; 
And as many gold nobles I will give 
As leaves been on a tree.' 

62 * And what wold ye doe with my bryde 

soe gay, 
I£E I did sell her thee ? 250 

More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye 
To lye by mee then thee.' 

63 Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, 

And Adler he did syng, 
' O ladye, this is thy owne true love, 
Noe harper, but a kyng. 

64 ' O ladye, this is thy owne true love, 

As playnlye thou mayest see, 
And He rid thee of that foul paynim 
Who partes thy love and thee.' 260 

65 The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, 

And blushte and lookt agayne. 
While Adler he hath drawne his brande, 
And hath the sowdan slayne. 

66 Up then rose the kemperye men, 

And loud they gan to crye: 
* Ah ! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng, 
And therefore yee shall dye.' 

67 Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde, 

And swith ^ he drew his brand, 270 
And Estmere he and Adler Yonge 
Right stiffe in stour ^ can stand. 

68 And aye their swordes soe sore can byte, 

Throughe help of gramarye. 
That soone they have slayne the kem- 
pery men. 
Or f orst them forth to flee. 

69 Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye, 

And marryed her to his wiffe. 
And brought her home to mery Eng- 
land, 
With her to lead his life. 280 



quickly. 



6 bold in battle. 



FAIR ANNIE 



283 



FAIR ANNIE 1 

1 * It 's narrow, narrow, make your bed, 
And learn to lie your lane ; ^ 

For I 'm ga'n oer the sea, Fair Annie, 
A braw bride to bring hame. 

Wi her I will get gowd and gear; 
Wi you I neer got nane. 

2 * But wha will bake my bridal bread, 
Or brew my bridal ale ? 

And wha will welcome my brisk bride. 
That I bring oer the dale ? ' 10 

3 * It 's I will bake your bridal bread, 

And brew your bridal ale, 
{ And I will welcome your brisk bride, 

li That you bring oer the dale.' 

4 * But she that welcomes my brisk bride 

Maun gang like maiden fair; 
She maun lace on her robe sae jimp,^ 
And braid her yellow hair.' 

5 * But how can I gang maiden-like. 

When maiden I am nane? 20 

Have I not born seven sons to thee. 
And am with child again ? ' 

6 She 's taen her young son in her arms, 

Another in her hand. 
And she 's up to the highest tower, 
To see him come to land. 

7 * Come up, come up, my eldest son, 

And look oer yon sea-strand. 
And see your father's new-come bride, 
Before she come to land.' 30 

8 'Come down,come down, my mother dear. 

Come frae the castle wa ! 
I fear, if langer ye stand there, 
Ye '11 let yoursell down fa.' 

j 9 And she gaed down, and farther down, 
Her love's ship for to see. 
And the topmast and the mainmast 
Shone like the silver free. 

10 And she 's gane down, and farther down. 
The bride's ship to behold, 40 

,1 The twelfth century Lai le Fraisne (Lay of the Ash- 
Tree) of Marie de France is a version of this ancient 
tale: it may be found translated in Eugene Mason's 
French Mediaeval Romances, in Everyman^s Library. 

2 aloae. 3 close-fitting. 



And the topmast and the mainmast 
They shone just like the gold. 

11 She 's taen her seven sons in her hand, 

I wot she didna fail; 
She met Lord Thomas and his bride. 
As they came oer the dale. 

12 * You *re welcome to your house, Lord 

Thomas, 
You're welcome to your land; 
You 're welcome with your fair ladye, 
That you lead by the hand. 50 

13 ' You 're welcome to your ha's, ladye. 

You 're welcome to your bowers; 
You 're welcome to your hame, ladye. 
For a' that 's here is yours.* 

14 *I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, 

Annie, 
Sae dearly as I thank thee; 
You 're the likest to my sister Annie, 
That ever I did see. 

15 ' There came a knight out oer the sea, 

And steald my sister away; 60 

The shame scoup^ in his company. 
And land whereer he gae ! ' 

16 She hang ae napkin at the door. 

Another in the ha, 
And a' to wipe the trickling tears, 
Sae fast as they did fa. 

17 And aye she served the lang tables, 

With white bread and with wine. 
And aye she drank the wan water, 
To had ^ her colour fine. 70 

18 And aye she served the lang tables. 

With white bread and with brown; 
And ay she turned her round about, 
Sae fast the tears fall down. 

19 And he 's taen down the silk napkin, 

Hung on a silver pin, 
And aye he wipes the tear trickling 
A' down her cheik and chin. 

20 And aye he turn'd him round about. 

And smil'd amang his men; 80 

Says, * Like ye best the old ladye, 
Or her that 's new come hame ? ' 
* fly. B hold, maintain. 



284 



BALLADS 



21 When bells were rung, and mass was 

sung, 
And a' men bound to bed, 
Lord Thomas and his new-come bride 
To their chamber they were gaed. 

22 Annie made her bed a little forbye,^ 

To hear what they might say; 
* And ever alas ! ' Fair Annie cried, 
' That I should see this day ! 90 

23 * Gin my seven sons were seven young 

rats, 
Running on the castle wa, 
And 1 were a grey cat mysell, 
I soon would worry them a'. 

24 * Gin my seven sons were seven young 

hares, 
Running oer yon lilly lee, 
And I were a grew hound ^ mysell, 
Soon worried they a' should be.' 

25 And wae and sad Fair Annie sat, 

And drearie was her sang, 100 

And ever, as she sobbd and grat,^ 

* Wae to the man that did the wrang !' 

26 *My gown is on,' said the new-come 

bride, 

* My shoes are on my feet. 

And I will to Fair Annie's chamber, 
And see what gars ^ her greet. 

27 ' What ails ye, what ails ye. Fair Annie, 

That ye make sic a moan ? 
Has your wine barrels cast the girds,® 
Or is your white bread gone ? no 

28 * O wha was 't was your father, Annie, 

Or wha was 't was your mother ? 
And had ye ony sister, Annie, 
Or had ye ony brother ? ' 

29 * The Earl of Wemyss was my father. 

The Countess of Wemyss my mother; 
And a' the folk about the house 
To me were sister and brother.' 

30 * If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, 

I wot sae was he mine; 120 

And it shall not be for lack o gowd 
That ye your love sail tine.® 



1 nearby. 
< makes. 



8 greyhound. 
6 hoops. 



' wept. 
6 lose. 



31 * For I have seven ships o mine ain, 

A' loaded to the brim, 
And I will gie them a' to thee, 

Wi four to thine eldest sou: 
But thanks to a' the powers in heaven 

That I gae maiden hame ! ' 



CHILD WATERS 

1 Childe Watters in his stable stoode. 

And stroaket his milke- white steede; 
To him came a tfaire young ladye 
As ere did weare womans wee[de]. 

2 Sales, * Christ you save, good Chyld Wa- 

ters ! ' 
Sayes, 'Christ you save and see ! 
My girdle of gold, which, was too longe. 
Is now to short £Eor mee. 

3 * And all is with one chyld of yours, 

I ffeele sturre att my side; 10 

My gowne of greene, it is to strayght;'^ 
Before it was to wide.' 

4 * If the child be mine, Faire Ellen,' he 

sayd, 

* Be mine, as you tell mee. 

Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, 
Take them yowr owne to bee. 

5 * If the child be mine, Ffaire Ellen,' he 

said, 

* Be mine, as you doe sweare. 

Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both. 
And make that child yowr heyre.' 20 

6 Shee sales, * I had rather have one kisse, 

Child Waters, of thy mouth, 
Then I wold have Cheshire and Lanca- 
shire both, 
That lyes by north and south. 

7 * And I had rather have a twinkling. 

Child Waters, of your eye, 
Then I wold have Cheshire and Lanca- 
shire both. 
To take them mine oune to bee. 

8 * To-morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde 

Soe fParr into the north countrye; 30 
The ffairest lady that I can ffind, 
Ellen, must goe with mee.' 
' narrow. 



CHILD WATERS 



285 



* And ever I pray you, Child Walters, 
Your ffootpage let me bee ! ' 

j 9 * If you will my ffootpage be, Ellen, 

As you doe tell itt mee, 
I Then you must cutt your gownne of 

greeue 
j An iuche above your knee. 

10 ' Soe must you doe your yellow lockes, 

'I Another inch above your eye ; 40 

You must tell noe man what is my 
name; 
My ffootpage then you shall bee.* 

11 All this long day Child Waters rode, 

Shee ran bare ffoote by his side; 
Yett was he never soe curteous a hnight 
To say, ' Ellen, will you ryde ? ' 

jl 12 But all this day Child Waters rode, 
jl Shee ran barff oote thorow the broome ; 

Yett he was never soe curteous a linight 
As to say, *Put on your shoone.' 50 

I 13 * Ride sof tly e,' shee said, * Child Waters ; 
Why doe you ryde soe ffast ? 
The child which is no mans but yours 
My bodye itt will burst.' 

14 He sayes, 'Sees thou yonder water, 
Ellen, 
That fflowes from banke to brim ? ' 
*I trust to God, Child Waters,' shee 
said, 
* You will never see mee swime.' 

jl 15 But when shee came to the waters side, 
I Shee sayled to the chinne: 60 

* Except the lord of heaven be my speed. 

Now must I learue to swime.' 

16 The salt waters bare vp Ellens clothes. 

Our Ladye bare vp he[r] chinne, 
j And Child Waters was a woe man, 

good Lo7'^, 
To ssee Faire Ellen swime. 

17 And when shee over the water was, 

Shee then came to his knee: 
He said, * Come hither, Ffaire Ellen, 
Loe yonder what I see ! 70 

18 * Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? 

Of redd gold shine the yates ; 



There 's four and twenty ffayre ladyes, 
The ffairest is my wordlye make.-"^ 

19 ' Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? 

Of redd gold shineth the tower ; 
There is four and twenty ffaire ladyes, 
The fairest is my paramoure.' 

20 * I doe see the hall now. Child Waters, 

That of redd gold shineth the yates ; 
God give good then of your selfe, 81 
And of your wordlye make ! 

21 'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters, 

That of redd gold shineth the tower ; 
God give good then of your seKe, 
And of yowr paramoure I ' 

22 There were four and twenty ladyes, 

Were playing att the ball, 
And Ellen, was the ffairest ladye, 
Must bring his steed to the stall. 90 

23 There were four and twenty faire ladyes 

Was playing att the chesse ; 
And Ellen, shee was the ffairest ladye, 
Must bring his horsse to grasse. 

24 And then bespake Child Waters sister, 

And these were the words said shee : 
You have the prettyest ffootpage, bro- 
ther. 
That ever I saw with mine eye ; 

25 ' But thsit his belly it is soe bigg, 

His girdle goes wonderous hye ; 100 
And euer I pray you, Child Waters, 
Let him goe into the chamber with 
mee.' 

26 'It is more meete for a little ffoot- 

page, 
That has run through mosse and mire, 
To take his supper vpon his knee 

And sitt downe by the kitchin fyer, 
Then to goe iuto the chamber with, any 
ladye 
That weares soe [rich] attyre.* 

27 But when they had supped euery one, 

To bedd they took the way ; no 

He sayd, 'Come hither, my little foot- 
page, 
Hearken what I doe say. 
1 worldly mate. 



286 



BALLADS 



28 'And <^oe thee downe into yonder towne, 

And low into the street; 
The ft'airest ladye that thou can find, 

Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe, 
And take her up in thine amies two, 

For filiuge ^ of her ffeete.' 

29 Ellen is gone into the towne, 

And low into the streete; 120 

The fairest ladye that shee cold find 

Sliee hyred in his armes to sleepe, 
And tooke her in her armes two, 

For filing of her ffeete. 

30 *I pray you now, good Child Waters, 

That I may creepe in att yowr bedds 
ffeete; 
For there is noe place about this house 
Where I may say ^ a sleepe.' 

31 This [night] and itt drove on affter- 

ward 
Till itt was neere the day: 130 

He sayd, ' Rise vp, my little ffoote-page, 

And give my steed corne and hay; 
And soe doe thou the good blacke 
oates, 
Thai he may carry me the better 
away.' 

32 And up then rose Ffaire Ellen, 

And gave his steed corne and hay, 
And soe shee did and the good blacke 

oates, 
Thai he might carry him the better 

away. 

33 Shee layned^ her backe to the manger 

side, 
And greivouslye did groane ; 140 

And thai beheard his mother deere, 
And heard her make her moane. 

34 Shee said, ' Rise vp, thou Child Waters, 

I thinke thou art a cursed man; 
For yonder is a ghost in thy stable, 

Thai greivouslye doth groane, 
Or else some woman laboures of child, 

Shee is soe woe begone.' 

35 But vp then rose Child Waters, 

And did on his shirt of silke; 150 

Then he put on his other clothes 
On his body as white as milke. 
1 defiling. » assay. 3 leaned. 



36 And when he came to the stable-dore, 

Full still thai hee did stand. 
Thai hee might heare now Faire Ellen, 
How shee made her monand.^ 

37 Shee said, 'Lullabye, my o wne deere child I 

Lullaby e, deere child, deere! 
I wold thy father were a king, 

Thy mother layd on a beere!' 160 

38 ' Peace now,' he said, * good Faire Ellen, 

And be of good cheere, I thee pray. 
And the bridall and the churching both, 
They shall bee upon one day.' 



LADY MAISRY 

1 The young lords o the north country 

Have all a wooing gone, 
To win the love of Lady Maisry, 
But o them she woud hae none. 

2 O they hae courted Lady Maisry 

Wi a' kin kind of things ; ^ 
An they hae sought her Lady Maisry 
Wi brotches an wi rings. 

3 An they ha sought her Lady Maisry 

Frae father and frae mother; 10 

An they ha sought her Lady Maisry 
Frae sister an frae brother. 

4 An they ha f ollowd her Lady Maisry 

Thro chamber and thro ha; 
But a' that they coud say to her, 
Her answer still was Na. 

5 'O had^ your tongues, young men,' she 

says, 
* An think nae mair o me; 
For I 've gien my love to an English lord. 
An think nae mair o me.' 20 

6 Her father's kitchy-boy heard that, 

An ill death may he dee! 

An he is on to her brother, 

As fast as gang coud he. 

7 * O is my father an my mother well, 

But an my brothers three ? 
Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well. 
There 's naethingf can ail me.' 



* moaning. 

6 things of every conceivable kind. 



8 hold. 



LADY MAISRY 



287 



8 ' Your father and your mother is well, 

But an your brothers three; 30 

Your sister Lady Maisry 's well, 
So big wi bairn gangs she.' 

9 * Gin this be true you tell to me, 

My mailisoni light on thee ! 
But gin it be a lie you tell, 
You sal be hangit hie.' 

10 He 's done him to his sister's bowr, 

Wi meikle doole an care; 
An there he saw her Lady Maisry, 
Kembing her yallow hair. 40 

11 *0 wha is aught 2 that bairn,' he says, 

' That ye sae big are wi ? 
And gin ye winua own the truth. 
This moment ye sail dee.' 

12 She turnd her right an roun about. 

An the kem fell f rae her han ; 

A trembling seizd her fair body, 

An her rosy cheek grew wan. 

13 * O pardon me, my brother dear, 

An the truth I'll tell to thee; 50 

My bairn it is to Lord William, 
An he is betrothed to me.' 

14 ' O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords, 

Intill your ain country. 
That ye draw up wi an English dog, 
To bring this shame on me ? 

15 *Bnt ye maun gi up the English lord. 

Whan youre young babe is born; 
For, gin you keep by him an hour langer, 
Your life sail be forlorn.' 60 

16 ' I will gi up this English blood, 

Till my young babe be born; 
But the never a day nor hour langer, 
Tho my life should be forlorn.' 

17 * O whare is a' my merry young men. 

Whom I gi meat and fee. 
To pu the thistle and the thorn, 
To burn this wile ^ whore wi ? * 



18 * O whare will I get a bonny boy. 

To help rae in my need, 
To rin wi hast to Lord William, 

And bid him come wi speed ? ' 
1 curse. » who is it owns. ' vile. 



70 



19 O out it spake a bonny boy, 

Stood by her brother's side: 

* O I would rin your errand, lady, 

Oer a' the world wide. 

20 ' Aft have I run your errands, lady, 

Whan blawu baith win and weet; ^ 
But now I '11 rin your errand, lady, 
Wi sat^ tears on my cheek.' 80 

21 O whan he came to broken briggs,^ 

He bent his bow and swam, 
An whan he came to the green grass 
growin, 
He slackd his shoone and ran. 

22 O whan he came to Lord William's 

gates, 

He baed na to chap or ca," 
But set his bent bow till his breast, 

An lightly lap the wa;^ 
An, or the porter was at the gate. 

The boy was i the ha. 90 

23 * O is my biggins^ broken, boy? 

Or is my towers won ? 
Or is my lady lighter yet, 
Of a dear daughter or son ? ' 

24 * Your biggin is na broken, sir, 

Nor is your towers won; 
But the fairest lady in a' the Ian 
For you this day maun burn.' 

25 ' O saddle me the black, the black, 

Or saddle me the brown; 100 

O saddle me the swiftest steed 
That ever rade frae a town.' 

26 Or he was near a mile awa. 

She heard his wild horse sneeze: 

* Mend up the fire, my false brother, 

It 's na come to my knees.' 

27 O whan he lighted at the gate, 

She heard his bridle ring: 
'Mend up the fire, my false brother. 
It 's far yet frae my chin. no 

28 * Mend up the fire to me, brother, 

Mend up the fire to me; 
For I see him comin hard an fast 
Will soon men 't up to thee. 

* blowing both wind and wet. 5 salt. « bridges. 
7 bided not to rap or caU. s leaped the wall. 9 buildings. 



288 



BALLADS 



29 ' gin my hands had been loose, Willy, 

Sae liard as they are boun, 
I would have turnd me frae the gleed,^ 
And castiu out your young son.' 

30 * O I '11 gar burn for you, Maisry, 

Your father an your uj other; 120 

An I '11 gar burn for you, Maisry, 
Your sister an your brother. 

31 * An I '11 gar burn for you, Maisry, 

The chief of a' your kin; 
An the last bonfire that I come to, 
Mysel I will cast in.' 



GLASGERI0N2 

1 Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne. 

And a harper he was good; 
He harped in the kings chamber, 

Where cuppe and candle stoode. 
And soe did hee in the queens chamber, 

Till ladies waxed wood.^ 

2 And then bespake the kings daughter, 

And these words thus sayd shee. 



3 Saide, ' Strike on, strike on, Glasgerrion, 

Of thy striking doe not blinne;^ 10 
There 's never a stroke comes over thin 
harpe 
But it glads my hart within.* 

4 *Faire might you fall, lady ! ' qwoth hee; 

* Who taught you now to speake. 
I have loved you, lady, seven yeere; 
My hart I durst neere breake.' 

5 * But come to my bower, my Glasger- 

ryon, 
When all men are att rest; 
As I am a ladie true of my promise, 
Thou shalt bee a welcome guest.' 20 

6 But horn then came Glasgerryon, 

A glad man, Lord, was hee: 
* And come thou hither, lacke, my boy. 
Come hither unto mee. 

1 brand. 

2 It is an interesting circumstance that one of the 
great harpers mentioned by Chaucer in his House of 
Fame (iii, 118) is the "Bret," or British, Glascurion. 

3 frantic. 



7 ' For the lyings daughter of Normaudye, 

Her love is granted mee. 
And befPore the cocke have crowen, 
Att her chamber must I bee.' 

8 * But come you hither, master,' quoth hee, 

' Lay your head downe on this stone ; 
For I will waken you, master deere, 31 
Afore it be time to gone.' 

9 But upp then rose that lither ^ ladd, 

And did on hose and shoone; 
A coller he cast upon his necke, 
Hee seemed a gentleman. 

10 And when he came to that ladies cham- 

ber, 
He thrild vpon a pinn;^ 
The lady was true of her promise, 
Rose up and lett him in. 40 

11 He did not take the lady gay 

To boulster nor to bedd. 
But downe upon her chamber-flore 
Full soone he hath her layd. 

12 He did not kisse that lady gay 

When he came nor when he youd;'*^ 
And sore mistrusted that lady gay 
He was of some churles blood. 

13 But home then came that lither ladd, 

And did of his hose and shoone, 50 
And cast that coller from about his 
necke; 

He was but a churles sonne : 
* Awaken,' quoth hee, ' my master deere, 

I hold it time to be gone. 

14 ' For I have sadled your horsse, master, 

Well bridled I have your steed; 

Have not I served a good breakfast. 

When time comes I have need.' 

15 But up then rose good Glasgerryon, 

And did on both hose and shoone, 60 
And cast a coller about his necke; 
He was a kinges sonne. 

16 And when he came to that ladies cham- 

ber. 
He thrild vpon a pinn; 
The Isidy was more then true of promise. 
Rose up and let him in. 
5 wicked. 6 rattled at the door-fastening. ^ went. 



CLERK SAUNDERS 



17 Saies, * Whether have you left with me 

Your braclett or your glove ? 
Or are you returned backe againe 
To know more of my love ? ' 70 

18 Glasgerryon swore a full great othe, 

By oake and ashe and thorne, 
* Lady, 1 was never in joiir chamber 
Sith the time that I was borne.' 

19 * O then it was yowr litle foote-page 

Falsly hath beguiled me: ' 
And then shee puUd forth a litle pen- 
kniffe, 
That hanged by her knee, 
Says, 'There shall never noe churles 
blood 
Spring within my body.* 80 

20 But home then went Glasgerryon, 

A woe man, good [Lord], was hee; 
* Sayes, ' Come hither, thou lacke, my 
boy. 
Come thou hither to me. 

21 * Ffor if I had killed a man to-night, 

laeke, I wold tell it thee ; 
But if I have not killed a man to-night, 
lacke, thou hast killed three ! ' 

22 And he puld out his bright browne 

sword. 
And dryed it on his sleeve, 90 

And he smote off that lither ladds head, 
And asked noe man noe leave. 

23 He sett the swords poynt till his brest. 

The pumill till a stone; 
Thorrow ^ that falsenese of that lither 
ladd 
These three lives werne all gone. 



CLERK SAUNDERS 

1 Clark Sanders and May Margret 

Walkt ower yon graveld green. 
And sad and heavy was the love, 
I wat, it fell this twa between. 

2 * A bed, a bed,' Clark Sanders said, 

* A bed, a bed for you and I;' 
*Fye no, fye no,' the lady said, 
' Until the day we married be. 
1 Through. 



3 * For in it will come my seven brothers, 

And a' their torches burning bright; 10 
They '11 say, " We hae but ae sister, 
Aiid here her lying wi a knight." ' 

4 'Ye'l take the sourde fray my scab- 

bord, 
And lowly, lowly lift the gin, 
And you may say, your oth to save, 
You never let Clark Sanders in. 

5 ' Yele take a napken in your hand, 

And ye '1 ty up baith your een, 
An ye may say, your oth to save, 

That ye saw ua Sandy sen late yes- 
treen. 20 

6 * Yele take me in your armes twa, 

Yele Carrey me ben - into your bed. 
And ye may say, your oth to save. 
In your bower-floor I never tread.' 

7 She has taen the sourde fray his scab- 

bord. 
And lowly, lowly lifted the gin; 
She was to swear, her oth to save. 
She never let Clerk Sanders in. 

8 She has tain a napkin in her hand. 

And she ty'd up baith her eeen; 30 
She was to swear, her oth to save, 
She saw na him sene late yestreen. 

9 She has taen him in her armes twa, 

And carried him ben into her bed; 
She was to swear, her oth to save, 
He never in her bower-floor tread. 

10 In and came her seven brothers. 

And all their torches burning bright; 
Says thay, ' We hae but ae sister, 
And see there her lying wi a knight.' 

11 Out and speaks the first of them, 41 

* A wat ^ they hay been lovers dear; ' 
Out and speaks the next of them, 

* They hay been in love this many a 

year.' 

12 Out an speaks the third of them, 

' It wear great sin this twa to twain ; * ^ 
Out an speaks the fourth of them, 
'It wear a sin to kill a sleeping 
man.' 

* within. 8 I ween. ^ sunder. 



,i 



290 



BALLADS 



13 Out an speaks the fifth of thera, 

' A vvat they '11 near be twaiued by 
me ; ' 50 

Out an speaks the sixt of them, 

' We '1 tak our leave an gae our 
way.' 

14 Out an speaks the seventh of them, 

' Altho there wear no a man but me, 

I bear the brand, I 'le gar him die.' 

15 Out he has taen a bright long brand. 

And he has striped it throw the straw, 
And throw and throw Clarke Sanders' 
body 
A wat he has gard ^ cold iron gae. 

16 Sanders he started, an Margret she lapt, 

Intill his arras whare she lay, 61 

And well and wellsom was the night, 
A wat it was between these twa. 

17 And they lay still, and sleeped sound, 

Untill the day began to daw ; ^ 
And kindly till him she did say 

' It 's time, trew-love, ye wear awa.' 

18 They lay still, and sleeped sound, 

Until the sun began to shine; 
She lookt between her and the wa, 70 
And dull and heavy was his eeen. 

19 She thought it had been a loathsome 

sweat, 
A wat it had fallen this twa between; 
But it was the blood of his fair body, 
A wat his life days wair na lang. 

20 * O Sanders, I 'le do for your sake 

What other ladys would na thoule;^ 
When seven years is come and gone, 
There 's near a shoe go on my sole. 

21 ' O Sanders, 1 'le do for your sake 80 

What other ladies would think mare; 
When seven years is come an gone, 
Ther 's nere a comb go in my hair. 

22 * O Sanders, 1 'le do for your sake 

What other ladies would think lack; 
When seven years is come an gone, 
I'le wear nought but dowy^ black.' 



1 I wot he has made, 
s endure. 



2 dawn. 
i dismal. 



23 The bells gaed clinking throw the towne, 

To carry the dead corps to the clay. 
An sighing says her May Margret, 90 
' A wat I bide a doulfou day.' 

24 In an come her father dear, 

Stout steping on the floor; 



25 ' Hold your toung, ray doughter dear. 

Let all your raourning a bee; 
I 'le carry the dead corpse to the clay. 
An I 'le corae back an comfort thee.' 

26 * Comfort well your seven sons. 

For comforted will I never bee; 
For it was neither lord nor loune 100 
That was in bower last night wi mee.' 



LORD THOMAS AND FAIR 
ANNET 

1 Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 

Sate a' day on a hill; 
Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, 
They had not talkt their fill. 

2 Lord Thomas said a word in jest, 

Fair Annet took it ill: 
* A, I will nevir wed a wife. 
Against my ain friends' will.' 

3 * Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife, 

A wife wull neir wed yee: ' 10 

Sae he is hame to tell his mither. 
And knelt upon his knee. 

4 ' O rede, O rede, mither,' he says, 

* A gude rede ^ gie to mee ; 
O sail I tak the nut-browne bride, 
And let Faire Annet bee ? ' 

5 * The nut-browne bride haes gowd and 

gear. 
Fair Annet she has gat nane; 
And the little beauty Fair Annet haes 
O it widl soon be gane.' 20 

6 And he has till his brother gane : 

'Now, brother, rede ye mee; 
A, sail I marrie the nut-browne bride. 
And let Fair Annet bee ? ' 
B counsel. 



LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET 



291 



7 ' The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother, 

The nut-browne bride has kje ; ^ 
I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne 
bride, 
And cast Fair Annet bye.' 

8 ' Her oxen may dye i the house, billie, 

And her kye into the byre,^ 30 

And I sail hae nothing to my sell 
Bot a fat fadge ^ by the fyre.' 

9 And he has till his sister gane : 

'Now, sister, rede ye niee; 
O sail I marrie the nut-browne bride, 
And set Fair Annet free ? ' 

10 ' I 'se rede ye tak Fair Annet, Thomas, 

And let the browue bride alane ; 
Lest ye sould sigh, and say, " Alace, 
What is this we brought hame! '" 40 

11 * No, I will tak my mither's counsel. 

And marrie me owt o hand ; 
And 1 will tak the nut-browne bride, 
Fair Annet may leive the land.' 

12 Up then rose Fair Annet's father, 

Twa hours or it wer day. 

And he is gane into the bower 

Wherein Fair Annet lay . 

13 ' Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,' he says, 

' Pnt on your silken slieene; ^ 50 

Let us gae to St. Marie's kirke. 
And see that rich weddeen.' 

14 * My maides, gae to my dressing-roome. 

And dress to me my hair; 
Whaireir yee laid a plait before. 
See yee lay ten times mair. 

15 'My maids, gae to my dressing-room. 

And dress to me my smock; 
The one half is o the holland ^ fine, 
The other o needle-work.' 60 

16 The horse Fair Annet rade upon. 

He amblit like the wind; 

Wi siller he was shod before, 

Wi burning gowd behind. 

17 Four and twanty siller bells 

Wer a' tyed till his mane. 



kine. 
splendor. 



2 cow-shed. 



3 dumpy woman. 
5 linen. 



And yae tift** o the norland wind, 
They tinkled ane by ane. 

18 Four and twanty gay gude knichts 

Rade by Fair Annet's side, 70 

And four and twanty fair ladies, 
As gin she had bin a bride. 

19 And whan she cam to Marie's kirk. 

She sat on Marie's stean : ' 
The cleadingS that Fair Annet had on 
It skinkled ^ in their een. 

20 And whan she cam into the kirk. 

She shimmerd like the sun; 
The belt that was about her waist 
Was a' wi pearles bedone. 80 

21 She sat her by the nut-browne bride. 

And her een they wer sae clear. 
Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride. 
Whan Fair Annet drew near. 

22 He had a rose into his hand. 

He gae it kisses three. 
And reaching by the nut-browne bride. 
Laid it on Fair Annet's knee. 

23 Up than spak the nut-browne bride. 

She spak wi meikle spite: 90 

* And whair gat ye that rose-water, 
That does mak yee sae white ? ' 

24 * O I did get the rose-water 

Whair ye wull neir get nane, 
For I did get that very rose-water 
Into my mither's wame.' ^*^ 

25 The bride she drew a long bodkin 

Frae out her gay head-gear, 
And strake Fair Annet unto the heart. 
That word spak nevir mair. too 

26 Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet wex 

pale, 
And marvelit what mote bee; 
But whan he saw her dear heart's blude, 
A' wood-wroth ^^ wexed hee. 

27 He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 

That was sae sharp and meet, 
And drave it into the nut-browne bride, 
That fell deid at his feit. 



6 one gust. 
» shone. 



f stone. 
10 womb. 



8 clothing. 
11 mad-angry. 



292 



BALLADS 



28 * Now stay for me, dear Annet,' he sed, 

'Now stay, my dear,' be cry'd; no 
Then strake the dagger untill his heart, 
And fell deid by her side. 

29 Lord Thomas was buried without 

kirkwa, 
Fair Anuet within the quiere. 
And o the tane thair grew a birk,^ 
The other a bonny briere. 

30 And ay they grew, and ay they threw,^ 

As they wad faine be neare; 
And by this ye may ken ri^ht weil 
They were twa luvers de'dre. 120 



LOVE GREG0R3 

1 * O "WHA will shoe my fu fair foot ? 

And wha will glove my hand ? 
And wha will lace my middle jimp,^ 
Wi the new made London band ? 

2 * And wha will kaim my yellow hair, 

Wi the new made silver kaim ? 

And wha will father my young son, 

Till Love Gregor come hame ? ' 

3 * Your father will shoe your f u fair foot, 

Your mother will glove your hand; 10 
Your sister will lace your middle jimp 
Wi the new made London band. 

4 *Your brother will kaim your yellow 

hair, 
Wi the new made silver kaim ; 
And the king of heaven will father 

your bairn. 
Till Love Gregor come haim.' 

5 *But I will get a bonny boat. 

And I will sail the sea. 
For I maun gang to Love Gregor, 
Since he canno come hame to me.' 20 

6 O she has gotten a bonny boat, 

And sailld the sa't sea fame; 

She langd to see her ain true-love, 

Since he could no come hame. 

7 * O row your boat, my mariners, 

And bring me to the land, 

1 birch. « twisted. 

8 Also known as The Lass of Boch Royal. * small. 



For yonder I see my love's castle, 
Closs by the sa't sea strand.' 

8 She has taen her young son in her arms. 

And to the door she 's gone, 30 

And laug she 's knocked and sair she ca'd. 
But answer got she none. 

9 ' O open the door. Love Gregor,' she says, 

* O open, and let me in; 
For the win blaws thro my yellow hair. 
And the rain draps oer my chin.' 

10 *Awa, awa, ye ill woman, 

You 'r nae come here for good; 
You 'r but some witch, or wile warlock,^ 
Or mer-maid of the flood.' 40 

11 * I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock, 

Nor mer-maid of the sea, 
I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal; 
O open the door to me.' 

12 *Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal — 

And I trust ye are not she — 
Now tell me some of the love-tokens 
That past between you and me.* 

13 * O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor, 

When we sat at the wine, 50 

How we changed the rings frae our 
fingers ? 
And I can show thee thine. 

14 * O yours was good, and good enneugh. 

But ay the best was mine ; 
For yours was o the good red goud, 
But mine o the diamonds fine. 

15 * But open the door now, Love Gregor, 

Open the door I pray. 
For your young son that is in ray arms 
Will be dead ere it be day.' 60 

16 * Awa, awa, ye ill woman. 

For here ye shanno win in; 

Gae drown ye in the raging sea, 

Or hang on the gallows-pin.' 

17 When the cock had crawn, and day did 

dawn, 
And the sun began to peep. 
Then it raise him Love Gregor, 
And sair, sair did he weep. 
B wizard. 



SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST 



293 



18 ' O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear, 

The thoughts o it gars me greet,^ 70 
That Fair Annie of Rough Royal 
Lay cauld dead at my feet.' 

19 * Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal 

That ye make a' this din, 
She stood a' last night at this door, 
But I trow she wan no in.' 

20 ' O wae betide ye, ill woman, 

An ill dead may ye die! 
That ye woudno open the door to her, 
Nor yet woud waken me.' 80 

21 O he has gone down to yon shore-side, 

As fast as he could fare; 
He saw Fair Annie in her boat. 
But the wind it tossed her sair. 

22 And ' Hey, Annie ! ' and * How, Annie ! 

O Annie, winna ye bide ? ' 
But aye the mair that he cried Annie, 
The braider grew the tide. 

23 And'Hey, Annie! 'and 'How, Annie! 

Dear Annie speak to me! ' 90 

But ay the louder he cried Annie, 
The louder roard the sea. 

24 The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, 

And dashd the boat on shore; 
Fair Annie floats on the raging sea, 
But her young son raise no more. 

25 Love Gregor tare his yellow hair. 

And made a heavy moan; 
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet. 
But his bonny young son was gone. 

26 O cherry, cherry was her cheek, loi 

And gowden was her hair, 
But clay cold were her rosey lips, 
Nae spark of life was there. 

27 And first he 's kissd her cherry cheek, 

And neist he 's kissed her chin ; 
And saf tly pressed her rosey lips, 
But there was nae breath within. 

28 ' O wae betide my cruel mother. 

And an ill dead may she die ! no 

For she turnd my true-love f rae my door. 
When she came sae far to me.' 
1 makes me cry. 



SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST 

1 Whan bells war rung, an mass was 

sung, 

A wat a' man ^ to bed were gone, 
Clark Sanders came to Margret's win- 
dow, 

With mony a sad sigh and groan. 

2 * Are ye sleeping, Margret,' he says, 

' Or are ye waking, presentlie ? 
Give me my faith and trouthe again, 
A wat, trew-love, I gied to thee.' 

3 * Your ^aith and trouth ye 's never get, 

Nor our trew love shall never twain,^ 
Till ye come with me in my bower, n 
And kiss me both cheek and chin.' 

4 * My mouth it is full cold, Margret, 

It has the smell now of the ground; 
And if I kiss thy comely mouth, 
Thy life-days will not be long. 

5 * Cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf , ^ 

I wat the wild fule ^ boded day ; 
Gie me my faith and trouthe again, 
And let me fare me on my way.' 20 

6 ' Thy faith and trouth thou shall na get. 

Nor our trew love shall never twin. 
Till ye tell me what comes of women 
A wat that dy's iu strong traveling.' 

7 * Their beds are made in the heavens 

high, 
Down at the foot of our good Lord's 
knee, 
Well set about wi gilly-flowers, 
A wat sweet company for to see. 

8 * O cocks are crowing a merry midd- 

larf, 
A wat the wilde f oule boded day ; 30 
The salms of Heaven will be sung, 
And ere now I 'le be misst awaj.' 

9 Up she has tain a bright long wand. 

And she has straked^ her trouth 
thereon ; 
She has given (it) him out at the shot- 
window, 

Wi many a sad sigh and heavy groan. 

2 Surely all men. » part. < A doubtful word. 

B fowL « stroked, i.e., transferred it to the wand. 



294 



BALLADS 



10 * I thank you, Margret, I thank you, 

Margret, 
And I thank you hartilie; 
Gine ever the dead come for the quick, 
Be sure, Margret, I '11 come again for 
thee.' 40 

11 It 's hose an shoon an gound ^ alane 

She clame the wall and followed him, 
Untill she came to a green forest, 
On this she lost the sight of him. 

12 * Is there any room at your head, San- 

ders ? 
Is there any room at your feet ? 
Or any room at your twa sides ? 
Whare fain, fain woud I sleep.' 

13 ' There is na room at my head, Margret, 

There is na room at my feet; 50 

There is room at my twa sides, 
For ladys for to sleep. 

14 * Cold meal ^ is my covering owre, 

But an my winding sheet; 
My bed it is full low, I say, 

Down among the hongerey worms I 
sleep. 

15 * Cold meal is my covering owre, 

But an my winding sheet; 
The dew it falls na sooner down 

Than ay it is full weet.' 60 



THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL 

1 There lived a wife at Usher's Well, 

And a wealthy wife was she; 
She had three stout and stalwart sons 
And sent them oer the sea. 

2 They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely ane. 
Whan word came to the carline wife ^ 
That her three sons were gane. 

3 They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely three, 10 

Whan word came to the carlin wife 
That her sons she 'd never see. 

4 * I wish the wind may never cease. 

Nor fashes ^ in the flood, 
1 gown. 2 mould. s old woman. < troubles. 



Till my three sons come hame to me, 
In earthly flesh and blood.' 

5 It fell about the Martinmass, 

When nights are lang and mirk,^ 
The carlin wife's three sons came hame, 
And their hats were o the birk.^ 20 

6 It neither grew in syke "^ nor ditch, 

Nor yet in ony sheugh ^ ; 
But at the gates o Paradise, 
That birk grew fair eneugh. 

7 * Blow up the fire, my maidens. 

Bring water from the well; 
For a' my house shall feast this night, 
Since ray three sons are well.' 

8 And she has made to them a bed. 

She 's made it large and wide, 30 

And she 's taen her mantle her about. 
Sat down at the bed-side. 

9 Up then crew the red, red cock, 

And up and crew the gray; 

The eldest to the youngest said, 

' 'T is time we were away.' 

10 The cock he hadna crawd but once. 

And clappd his wings at a', 
When the youngest to the eldest said, 
' Brother, we must awa. 40 

11 'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, 

The channerin^ worm doth chide; 
Gin we be mist out o our place, 
A sair pain we maun bide. 

12 * Fare ye weel, my mother dear ! 

Fareweel to barn and byre ^^ ! 

13 And fare ye weel, the bonny lass 

That kindles my mother's fire ! ' 



LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY 
BARNARD 

1 As it fell one holy-day, 
Hay downe. 
As many be in the yeare, 
When young men and maids together 
did goe, 
Their mattins and masse to heare, 



5 dark. " birch. 
9 grumbling. 



7 trench. 8 furrow. 
10 cow-house. 



LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD 



295 



2 Little Musgrave came to the church- 

dore; 
The preist was at private masse; 
But he had more miude of the f aire women 
Than he had of our lady['s] grace. 

3 The one of them was clad in green, 10 

Another was clad in pall,i 
And then came in my Lord Bernard's 
wife, 
The fairest amonst them all. 

4 She cast an eye on Little Musgrave, 

As bright as the summer sun; 
And then bethought this Little Musgrave, 
This lady's heart have I woonn. 

6 Quoth she, ' I have loved thee. Little 
Musgrave, 
Full long and many a day ; ' 

• So have I loved you, fair lady, 20 

Yet never word durst I say.' 

6 * I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery, 

Full dainty ly it is deight; 
If thou wilt wend thither, thou Little 
Musgrave, 
Thou 's lig 2 in mine armes all night.' 

7 Quoth he, ' I thank yee, faire lady. 

This kindnes thou showest to me; 
But whether it be to my weal or woe, 
This night I will lig with thee.' 

8 With that he heard, a little tyne page. 

By his ladye's coach as he ran: 31 

* All though I am my ladye's foot-page. 

Yet I am Lord Barnard's man. 

9 * My lord Barnard shall knowe of this. 

Whether I sink or swim ; ' 
And ever where the bridges were broake 
He laid him downe to swimme. 

10 * A sleepe or wake, thou Lord Barnard, 

As thou art a man of life, 
For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesford- 
bery, 40 

A bed with thy own wedded wife.' 

11 ' If this be true, thou little tinny page, 

This thing thou tellest to me, 
Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery 
I freely will give to thee. 
1 purple. 2 Thou shalt lie. 



12 * But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page, 

This thing thou tellest to me, 
On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery 
Then hanged shalt thou be.' 

13 He called up his merry men all: 50 

* Come saddle me my steed; 

This night must I to Buckellsfordbery, 
For I never had greater need.' 

14 And some of them whistld, and some of 

them sung, 
And some these words did say, 
And ever when my lord Barnard's horn 
blew, 

* Away, Musgrave, away ! * 

15 ' Methinks I hear the thresel-cock, 

Methinks I hear the jaye; 
Methinks I hear my lord Barnard, 60 
And I would I were away.' 

16 * Lye still, lye still, thou Little Musgrave, 

And huggell me from the cold; 

'Tis nothing but a shephard's boy, 

A driving his sheep to the fold. 

17 * Is not thy hawke upon a perch ? 

Thy steed eats oats and hay; 
And thou a fair lady in thine armes, 
And wouldst thou bee away ? ' 

18 With that my lord Barnard came to the 

dore, 70 

And lit a stone upon; 
He plucked out three silver keys, 
And he opened the dores each one. 

19 He lifted up the coverlett, 

He lifted up the sheet: 
* How now, how now, thou Littell Mus- 
grave, 
Doest thou find my lady sweet ? * 

20 *I find her sweet,' quoth Little Mus- 

grave, 

* The more 't is to my paine ; 

I would gladly give three hundred 
pounds 80 

That I were on yonder plaine.' 

21 * Arise, arise, thou Littell Musgrave, 

And put thy clothes on; 
It shall nere be said in my country 
I have killed a naked man. 



296 



BALLADS 



22 ' I have two swords in one scabberd, 

Full deere they cost my purse ; 
And thou shalt have the best of them, 
And I will have the worse.' 

23 The first stroke that Little Musgrave 

stroke, 90 

He hurt Lord Barnard sore; 
The next stroke that Lord Barnard 

stroke. 
Little Musgrave nere struck more. 

24 With that bespake this faire lady, 

In bed whereas she lay: 
* Although thou 'rt dead, thou Little 
Musgrave, 
Yet I for thee will pray. 

25 ' And wish well to thy soule will I, 

So long as I have life ; 
So will I not for thee, Barnard, icx3 

Although I am thy wedded wife.' 

26 He cut her paps from off her brest; 

Great pity it was to see 
That some drops of this ladle's heart's 
blood 
Ran trickling downe her knee. 

27 * Woe worth you, woe worth, my mery 

men all. 
You were nere borne for my good; 
Why did you not offer to stay my 

hand. 
When you see me wax so wood ? 

28 ' For I have slaine the bravest sir knight 

That ever rode on steed; m 

So have I done the fairest lady 
That ever did woman's deed. ' 

29 * A grave, a grave,' Lord Barnard cryd, 

' To put these lovers in ; 
But lay ray lady on the upper hand, 
For she came of the better kin.' 



BONNY BARBARA ALLAN 

1 It was in and about the Martinmas 
time. 
When the green leaves were a falling, 
That Sir John Graeme, in the West 
Country, 
Fell in love with Barbara Allan. 



2 He sent his man down through the 

town. 
To the place where she was dwelling: 
* O haste and come to my master dear, 
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.' 

3 O hooly,^ hooly rose she up, 

To the place where he was lying, 10 
And when she drew the curtain by, 
' Young man, I think you 're dying.' 

4 * O it 's I 'm sick, and very, very sick. 

And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan: ' 
' O the better for me ye 's never be, 
Tho your heart's blood were a spill- 
ing. 

5 'O dinna ye mind, young man,' said 

she, 
* When ye was in the tavern a drink- 

That ye made the healths gae round and 
round. 
And slighted Barbara Allan ? ' 20 

6 He turned his face unto the wall. 

And death was with him dealing: 
'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, 
And be kind to Barbara Allan.' 

7 And slowly, slowly raise she up, 

And slowly, slowly left him. 
And sighing said, she coud not stay, 
Since death of life had reft him. 

8 She had not gane a mile but twa. 

When she heard the dead-bell ring- 
ing) 30 
And every jow '^ that the dead-bell 
geid,3 

It cry'd, ' Woe to Barbara Allan ! ' 

9 * O mother, mother, make my bed ! 

make it saft and narrow ! 
Since my love died for nie to-day, 

1 '11 die for him to-morrow.' 



LAMKIN 

1 It 's Lamkin was a mason good 
as ever built wi stane; 
He built Lord Wearie's castle, 

but payment got he nane. 
1 slowly. 2 stroke. * struck. 



LAMKIN 



297 



2 * O pay me, Lord Wearie, 

come, pay me my fee : ' 
• I canna pay you, Lamkin, 
for I maun gang oer the sea/ 

3 ' O pay me now, Lord Wearie, 

come, pay me out o hand: ' 10 

*I canna pay you, Lamkin, 
unless I sell my land.' 

4 * O gin ye winna pay me, 

I here sail mak a vow, 
Before that ye come hame again, 
ye sail hae cause to rue.' 

5 Lord Wearie got a bonny ship, 

to sail the saut sea faem; 
Bade his lady weel the castle keep, 
ay till he should come hame. 20 

6 But the nourice was a fause limmer ^ 

as eer hung on a tree; 
She laid a plot wi Lamkin, 

whan her lord was oer the sea. 

7 She laid a plot wi Lamkin, 

when the servants were awa, 
Loot him in at a little shot-window,^ 
and brought him to the ha. 

8 • O whare 's a' the men o this house, 

that ca me Lamkin ? ' 30 

' They 're at the barn- well thrashing; 
't will be lang ere they come in.' 

9 * And whare *s the women o this house, 

that ca me Lamkin ? ' 
*They 're at the far well washing; 
't will be lang ere they come in.' 

10 * And whare 's the bairns o this house, 

that ca me Lamkin?' 
*They 're at the school reading; 39 

't will be night or they come hame.' 

11 * O whare 's the lady o this house, 

that ca's me Lamkin ? ' 
' She 's up in her bower sewing, 

but we soon we can bring her down.' 

12 Then Lamkin 's tane a sharp knife, 

that hang down by his gaire,^ 
And he has gien the bonny babe 

a deep wound and a sair. 
1 wretch. « top-hinged window. s gore. 



13 Then Lamkin he rocked, 

and the fause nourice sang. 
Till frae ilkae bore ^ o the cradle 
the red blood out sprang. 

14 Then out it spak the lady, 

as she stood on the stair: 

* What ails my bairn, nourice, 

that he 's greetmg sae sair ? 

15 ' O still my bairn nourice, 

O still him with the pap ! ' ^ 
' He winna still, lady, 
for this nor for that.' 

16 *0 still my bairn, nourice, 

O still him wi the wand ! ' 

* He winna still, lady, 

for a' his father's land.' 

17 'O still my bairn, nourice, 

O still him wi the bell ! ' 
' He winna still, lady, 

till ye come down yoursel.' 

18 O the firsten step she steppit, 

she steppit on a stane ; 
But the neisten step she steppit, 
she met him Lamkin. 



60 



70 



19 ' O mercy, mercy, Lamkin, 

hae mercy upon me ! 
Though you 've taen my young son's life, 
ye may let mysel be.' 

20 ' sail I kill her, nourice, 

or sail I lat her be ? ' 
' O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, 

for she neer was good to me.' 80 

21 * O scour the bason, nourice, 

and mak it fair and clean. 
For to keep this lady's heart's blood, 
for she 's come o noble kin.' 

22 * There need nae bason, Lamkin, 

lat it run through the floor; 

What better is the heart's blood 

o the rich than o the poor ? ' 

23 But ere three months were at an end. 

Lord Wearie came again; 90 

But dowie,^ dowie was his heart 
when first he came hame. 

* hole. 5 breast. 6 sad. 



298 



BALLADS 



24 * O wha's blood is this,' he says, 

that lies in the chamer ? ' ^ 
* It is your lady's heart's blood; 
't is as clear as the lamer.' ^ 

25 * And wha's blood is this,' he says, 

' that lies in my ha ? ' 
*It is your young son's heart's blood; 
't is the clearest ava.' ^ i 

26 O sweetly sang the black-bird 

that sat upon the tree; 
But sairer grat ^ Larakin, 

when he was condemnd to die. 

27 And bonny sang the mavis,^ 

out o the thorny brake; 
But sairer grat the nourice, 
when she was tied to the stake. 



YOUNG WATERS 

1 About Yule, ^hen the wind blew 

cule, 
And the round tables ^ began, 
A there is cum to our king's court 
Mony a well-favord man. 

2 The queen luikt owre the castle-wa, 

Beheld baith dale and down. 
And there she saw Young Waters 
Cum riding to the town. 

3 His footmen they did rin before, 

His horsemen rade behind; 10 

And mantel of the burning gowd 
Did keip him frae the wind. 

4 Gowden-graithd ^ his horse before, 

And siller-shod behind; 
The horse Young Waters rade upon 
Was fleeter than the wind. 

5 Out then spack a wylie lord. 

Unto the queen said he, 
< O tell me wha 's the fairest face 

Rides in the company ? ' 20 

6 * I 've sene lord, and I 've sene laird. 

And knights of high degree, 
Bot a fairer face than Young Waters 
Mine eyne did never see.' 



1 chamber. 
B thrush. 



2 amber. 
6 a game. 



3 of all. 4 wept. 

7 Gold-shod. 



7 Out then spack the jealous king, 

And an angry man was he: 
* O if he had bin twice as fair. 
You micht have excepted me.* 

8 * You 're neither laird nor lord,' she 

says, _ 29 

* Bot the king that wears the crown ; 
There is not a knight in fair Scot- 
land 
But to thee maun ^ bow down.' 

9 For a' that she coud do or say, 

Appeas'd he wad nae bee, 
Bot for the words which she had said, 
Young Waters he maun die. 

10 They hae taen Young Waters, 

And put fetters to his feet; 
They hae taen Young Waters, 

And thrown him in dungeon deep. 40 

11 ' Aft I have ridden thro Stirling town 

In the wind bot and^ the weit; 
But I neir rade thro Stirling town 
Wi fetters at my feet. 

12 ' Aft I have ridden thro Stirling town 

In the wind bot and the rain ; 
Bot I neir rade thro Stirling town 
Neir to return again.' 

13 They hae taen to the heiding-hill 

His young son in his craddle, 50 

And they hae taen to the heiding-hill 
His horse bot and his saddle. 

14 They hae taen to the heiding-hill 

His lady fair to see, 
And for the words the queen had 
spoke 
Young Waters he did die. 



THE MAID FREED FROM THE 
GALLOWS 10 

1 * O GOOD Lord Judge, and sweet Lord 
Judge, 
Peace for a little while ! 
Methinks I see my own father, 
Come riding by the stile. 

8 must. 9 and also. 

10 This ballad is often cited as an example of genuine 
ballad structure. 



THE GAY GOSS-HAWK 



299 



2 ' Oh father, oh father, a little of your 

gold, 
And likewise of your fee ! 
To keep my body from yonder grave, 
And my neck from the gallows-tree.* 

3 ' None of my gold now you shall have, 

Nor likewise of my fee ; 10 

For I am conie to see you hangd, 
And hanged you shall be. 

4 * Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord 

Judge, 
Peace for a little while ! 
Methinks I see my own mother. 
Come riding by the stile. 

5 * Oh mother, oh mother, a little of your 

gold, 
And likewise of your fee, 18 

To keep my body from yonder grave. 
And my neck from the gallows-tree ! ' 

6 * None of my gold now shall you have. 

Nor likewise of my fee ; 
For I am come to see you hangd, 
And hanged you shall be.' 

7 ' Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord 

Judge, 
Peace for a little while ! 
Methinks I see my own brother. 
Come riding by the stile.' 

8 * Oh brother, oh brother, a little of your 

gold. 
And likewise of your fee, 30 

To keep my body from yonder grave. 
And my neck from the gallows-tree ! ' 

9 'None of my gold now shall you have. 

Nor likewise of my fee; 
For I am come to see you hangd. 
And hanged you shall be.' 

10 * Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord 

Judge, 
Peace for a little while ! 
Methinks I see my own sister. 

Come riding by the stile. 40 

11 ' Oh sister, oh sister, a little of your gold, 

And likewise of your fee. 
To keep my body from yonder grave. 
And my neck from the gallows-tree ! ' 



12 ' None of my gold now shall you have. 

Nor likewise of my fee; 
For I am come to see you hangd 
And hanged you shall be. ' 

13 ' Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord 

Judge, 
Peace for a little while ! 50 

Methinks I see my own true-love, 
Come riding by the stile. 

14 ' Oh true-love, oh true-love, a little of 

your gold. 
And likewise of your fee. 
To save my body from yonder grave, 
And my neck from the gallows-tree.' 

15 * Some of my gold now you shall have, 

And likewise of my fee. 
For I am come to see you saved, 
And saved you shall be.' 60 



THE GAY GOSS-HAWK 

1 * O WELL 's me o my gay goss-hawk, 

That he can speak and flee; 

He '11 carry a letter to my love. 

Bring back another to me.' 

2 ' O how can I your true-love ken,i 

Or how can I her know ? 
Whan f rae her mouth I never heard couth,^ 
Nor wi my eyes her saw.' 

3 * O well sal ye my true-love ken, 

As soon as you her see; 10 

For, of a' the flowrs in fair Englan, 
The fairest flowr is she. 

4 ' At even at my love's bowr-door 

There grows a bowing birk. 
An sit ye down and sing thereon, 
As she gangs to the kirk. 

5 ' An four-and-twenty ladies fair 

Will wash and go to kirk. 
But well shall ye my true-love ken, 
For she wears goud on her skirt. 20 

6 ' An four and twenty gay ladies 

Will to the mass repair. 
But well sal ye my true-love ken. 
For she wears goud on her hair.' 
1 know. 2 sound, word. 



300 



BALLADS 



7 O even at that lady's bowr-door, 

There grows a bowin birk, 
An he set down and sang thereon, 
As she ged to the kirk. 

8 * O eet and drink, my marys ^ a', 

The wine flows you among, 30 

Till I gang to my shot-window, 
An hear yon bonny bird's song. 

9 * Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, 

The song ye sang the streen,^ 
For I ken by your sweet singin 
You 're frae my true-love sen.' 

10 O first he sang a merry song, 

An then he sang a grave. 
An then he peckd his feathers gray, 
To her the letter gave. 40 

11 ' Ha, there 's a letter frae your love. 

He says he sent you three; 

He canna wait your love langer. 

But for your sake he '11 die. 

12 * He bids you write a letter to him ; 

He says he 's sent you five; 
He canno wait your love langer, 
Tho you 're the fairest woman alive.' 

13 ' Ye bid him bake his bridal-bread. 

And brew his bridal-ale, 50 

An I '11 meet him in fair Scotlan 
Lang, lang or it be stale.' 

14 She 's doen her to her father dear, 

Fa'n low down on her knee: 
* A boon, a boon, my father dear, 
I pray you, grant it me.' 

15 * Ask on, ask on, my daughter. 

An granted it sal be; 
Except ae squire in fair Scotlan, 

An him you sail never see.' 60 

16 * The only boon, my father dear. 

That I do crave of the. 

Is, gin I die in southin lands. 

In Scotland to bury me. 

17 * An the firstin kirk that ye come till, 

Ye gar the bells be rung. 
An the nextin kirk that ye come till, 
Ye gar the mess be sung. 
1 maids. 2 yester evening. 



18 * And the thirdin kirk that ye come 

till, 
You deal gold for my sake, 70 

An the fourthin kirk that ye come till, 
You tarry there till night.' 

19 She is doen her to her bigly ^ bowr. 

As fast as she coud fare. 
An she has tane a sleepy draught, 
That she had mixed wi care. 

20 She 's laid her down upon her bed, 

An soon she 's fa'n asleep, 
And soon oer every tender limb 

Cauld death began to creep. 80 

21 Whan night was flown, an day was 

come, 
Nae ane that did her see 
But thought she was as surely dead 
As ouy lady coud be. 

22 Her father an her brothers dear 

Gard make ^ to her a bier; 
The tae half was o guide red gold, 
The tither o silver clear. 

23 Her mither an her sisters fair 

Gard work for her a sark; ^ 90 

The tae half was o cambjick fine, 
The tither o needle wark. 

24 The firstin kirk that they came till. 

They gard the bells be rung, 
And the nextin kirk that they came 
till. 
They gard the mess be sung. 

25 The thirdin kirk that they came till. 

They dealt gold for her sake. 
An the fourthin kirk that they came 
till, 
Lo, there they met her make ! ^ 100 

26 * Lay down, lay down the bigly bier. 

Lat me the dead look on; ' 

Wi cheery cheeks and ruby lips 

She lay an smil'd on him. 

27 * O ae sheave'^ o your bread, true-love, 

An ae glass o your wine, 

For I hae fasted for your sake 

These fully days is nine. 



' fine. * Had made. 

6 mate, lover. 



5 shirt, shroud. 
7 slice. 



THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE SKERRY 



301 



28 * Gang hame, gang liame, my seven bold 
brothers, 
Gang hame and sound your horn; no 
An ye may boast in southin lans 
Your sister 's playd you scorn.' 



THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF 
ISLINGTON 

1 There was a youth, and a well belovd 

youth, 
And he was a esquire's son, 
He loved the bayliff's daughter dear, 
That lived in Islington. 

2 She was coy, and she would not believe 

That he did love her so, 
No, nor at any time she would 
Any countenance to him show. 

3 But when his friends did understand 

His fond and foolish mind, 10 

They sent him up to fair London, 
An apprentice for to bind. 

4 And when he had been seven long years, 

And his love he had not seen, 

* Many a tear have I shed for her sake 

When she little thought of me.' 

5 All the maids of Islington 

Went forth to sport and play; 
All but the bayliff's daughter dear; 
She secretly stole away. 20 

6 She put off her gown of gray, 

And put on her puggish^ attire; 
She 's up to fair London gone, 
Her true-love to require. 

7 As she went along the road. 

The weather being hot and dry, 
There was she aware of her true-love, 
At length came riding by. 

8 She stept to him, as red as any rose, 

And took him by the bridle-ring: 30 

* I pray you, kind sir, give me one penny. 

To ease my weary limb.' 

9 * I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell 

me 
Where that thou wast born ? ' 
1 ragged ? tramp's ? 



At Islington, kind sir,' said she, 
* Where I have had many a scorn.' 

10 'I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell 

me 
Whether thou dost know 
The bailiff's daughter of Islington ? * 
' She 's dead, sir, long ago.' 40 

11 * Then will I sell my goodly steed. 

My saddle and my bow; 
I will into some far countrey, 
W^here no man doth me know.' 

12 ' O stay, O stay, thou goodly youth ! 

She 's alive, she is not dead; 
Here she standeth by thy side. 
And is ready to be thy bride.' 

13 * O farewel grief, and welcome joy, 

Ten thousand times and more ! 50 

For now I have seen my own true-love, 

That I thought I should have seen no 



THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE 
SKERRY2 

1 An eartly nourris sits and sings. 

And aye she sings, * Ba, lily wean ! 
Little ken I my bairnis father. 

Far less the land that he staps in.' 

2 Then ane arose at her bed-fit. 

An a grumly '^ guest I 'm sure was he: 

* Here am I, thy bairnis father. 

Although that I be not comelie. 

3 ' I am a man, upo the Ian, 

An I am a silkie in the sea; 10 

And when I 'm far and far f rae Ian, 
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.' 

4 *It was na weel,' quo the maiden fair, 

' It was na weel, indeed,' quo she, 

* That the Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie 

Suld hae come and aught ^ a bairn to 
me.' 

5 Now he has taen a purse of goud. 

And he has pat it upo her knee, 

2 " The Great Seal of Sule Reef." This fine ballad, re- 
minding one of Arnold's Forsaken Merman, was ob- 
tained from an old lady in the Shetland Islands in 1852. 

s fierce. « owed. 



302 



BALLADS 



Sayin, * Gie to me my little young son, 
An tak thee up thy nourris-fee. 20 

6 ' An it sail come to pass on a simmer's 

day, 
When the sin shines het on evera stane. 
That I will tak my little young son, 
An teach him for to swim the faem. 

7 * An thu sail marry a proud gunner. 

An a proud gunner I 'm sure he '11 be. 
An the very first schot that ere he schoots. 
He '11 schoot baith my young son and 
me.' 



JOHNIE COCK 

1 JoHNY he has risen up i the morn, 

Calls for water to wash his hands; 
But little knew he that his bloody hounds 
Were bound in iron bands.^ bands 
Were bound in iron bands. 

2 Johny's mother has gotten word o that, 

And care-bed ^ she has taen : 
* O Johny, for my benison, 

I beg you '1 stay at hame ; 
For the wine so red, and the well baken 
bread, lo 

My Johny shall want nane. 

3 * There are seven f orsters at Pickeram 

Side, 
At Pickeram where they dwell, 
And for a drop of thy heart's bluid 
They wad ride the fords of hell.' 

4 Johny he 's gotten word of that, 

And he 's turnd wondrous keen; 
He 's put off the red scarlett, 
And he 's put on the Lincolm green. 

5 With a sheaf of arrows by his side, 20 

And a bent bow in his hand, 
He 's mounted on a prancing steed. 
And he has ridden fast oer the strand. 

6 He 's up i Braidhouplee, and down i 

Bradyslee, 
And under a buss ^ o broom, 
And there he found a good dun deer. 
Feeding in a buss of ling.^ 

» Because it was the close season? But of. stanza 9, 
* sick-bed. a bush. * heather. 



7 Johny shot, and the dun deer lap, 

And she lap wondrous wide. 
Until they came to the wan water, 30 
And he stemd her of her pride. 

8 He 'as taen out the little pen-knife, 

'T was full three quarters ^ long, 
And he has taen out of that dun deer 
The liver hot and ^ the tongue. 

9 They eat of the flesh, and they drank of 

the blood. 
And the blood it was so sweet, 
Which caused Johny and his bloody 
hounds 
To fall in a deep sleep. 

10 By then came an old palmer, 40 

And an ill death may he die ! 
For he 's away to Pickram Side, 
As fast as he can drie."^ 

11 * What news, what news ? ' says the 

Seven Forsters, 
* What news have ye brought to me ? ' 
*I have noe news,' the palmer said, 
' But what I saw with my eye. 

12 'High up i Bradyslee, low down i 

Bradisslee, 
And under a buss of scroggs,^ 
O there I spied a well- wight ^ man, 50 
Sleeping among his dogs. 

13 * His coat it was of Light Lincolm, 

And his breeches of the same. 

His shoes of the American leather, 

And gold buckles tying them.' 

14 Up bespake the Seven Forsters, 

Up bespake they ane and a' : 

* O that is Johny o Cockleys Well, 

And near him we will draw.' 

15 O the first y^^ stroke that they gae him. 

They struck him off by the knee; 61 
Then up bespake his sister's son: 
' O the next '11 gar him die ! ' 

16 * O some they count ye well-wight men, 

But I do count ye nane; 
For you might well ha wakend me. 
And askd gin I wad ^^ be taen. 

5 Of a yard. 8 and also. ^ stand it. 8 shrubs. 
» right doughty. "» one. " if I would. 



ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE 



303 



17 * The wildest wolf in aw this wood 

Wad not ha done so by me ; 
She 'd ha wet her foot ith wan water, 70 

And sprinkled it oer my brae,i 
And if that wad not ha wakend me, 

She wad ha gone and let me be. 

18 * O bows of yew, if ye be true, 

In London, where ye were bought. 
Fingers five, get up belive, 
Manhuid shall fail me nought.' 

19 He has killd the Seven Forsters, 

He has killd them all but ane, 79 

And that wan scarce to Pickeram Side, 
To carry the bode-words ^ hame. 

20 * Is there never a boy ^ in a' this wood 

That will tell what I can say; 
That will go to Cockleys Well, 

Tell my mither to fetch me away ? 



21 There was a boy into that wood, 
That carried the tidings away. 
And many ae ^ was the well-wight 
At the fetching o Johny away. 



ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF 
GISBORNE 5 

1 When shawes ^ beene sheene, and 

shradds '^ full fayre, 
And leeves both large and longe, 
Itt is merry, walking in the fayre ffor- 

rest, 
To heare the small birds songe. 

2 The woodweele ^ sang, and wold not 

cease, 
Amongst the leaves a lyne: ^ 
And it is by two wight yeomen, 
By deare God, that 1 meane. 



1 brow, 2 news. 

3 It is a bird in the other versions. * a one. 

6 There are some two score ballads of Robin Hood, the 
oldest in a MS., of about l-iSO ; and one of these, 
printed about 1500, is the Gesi of Robyn Hode in 456 
stanzas — apparently nothing less than a little popular 
epic, wrought from separate, episodic ballads. The 
material is of course much older, iovin Piers Plowman, 
composed about 1377, we learn that Sloth knew " rhymes 
of Robin Hood and Randolf Earl of Chester " better 
than he did his paternoster. Robin is a ballad creation, 
the ideal champion of the common people against their 
secular and spiritual oppressors, and the embodiment 
of the old English love of fair play and the open air. 

6 thickets. ^ coppices. 8 thrush? 9 of linden. 



3 *Me thought they did mee beate and 

binde. 
And tooke my bow mee froe; 10 

If I bee Robin a-live in this lande, 
I 'le be wrocken '^^ on both them 

towe.' 11 

4 *Sweavens^2 a^e swift, master,* qwothlohn 

'As the wind that blowes ore a hill; 
Ffor if itt be never soe lowde this night. 
To-morrow it may be still.' 

5 'Buske^^ yee, bowne^^ yee, my merry 

men all. 
Ffor lohn shall goe with mee; 
For 1 'le goe seeke yond wight yeomen 
In greenwood where the bee.' 20 

6 The cast on their gowne of greene, 

A shooting gone are they, 
Untill they came to the merry green- 
wood. 
Where they had gladdest bee; 
There were the ware of [a] wight yeo- 
man. 
His body leaned to a tree. 

7 A sword and a dagger he wore by his 

side, 
Had beene many a mans bane,^^ 
And he was cladd in his capuU-hyde, ^^ 
Topp, and tayle, and mayne. 30 

8 * Stand you still, master,^ quoth Litle 

lohn, 
' Under this trusty tree. 
And I will goe to yond wight yeoman, 
To know his meaning trulye.' 

9 * A, lohn, by me thou setts noe store. 

And that 's a ffarley i" thinge; 
How offt send I my men betiore. 
And tarry my-selfe behinde ? 

10 ' It is noe cunning a knave to ken, 

And ^8 a man but here him speake; 40 
And itt were not for burstmg of my 

bowe, 
lohn, I wold thy head breake.' 

11 But often words they breed en bale, ^^ 

That parted Robin and lohn; 

10 revenged. " two. " dreams. " Equip. 
1* prepare. is destruction. is horse-hide, 

" strange. is K. " make trouble. 



304 



BALLADS 



lohn is gone to Barn [e] sdale,i 
The gates "^ he knowes eehe one. 

12 And when hee came to Barnesdale, 

Great heavinesse there hee hadd; 
He fPouud two of his fellowes 

Were slaine both m a slade,^ 50 

13 And Scarlett a ffoote flyinge was, 

Over stockes and stone, 
For the sheriffe with seven score men 
Fast after him is gone. 

14 * Yett one shoote I 'le shoote,' sayes 

Litle lohn, 

* With Crist his might and mayne; 

I 'le make yond fellow that flyes soe fast 
To be both glad and ffaine.' 

15 lohn bent vp a good veiwe ^ bow. 

And ffetteled^ him to shoote; 60 

The bow was made of a tender boughe, 
And fell downe to his foote. 

16 *Woe worth thee, wicked wood,' sayd 

Litle lohn, 

* jTAat ere thou grew on a tree ! 
Ffor this day thou art my bale, 

My boote ® when thou shold bee ! * 

17 This shoote it was but looselye shott, 

The arrowe flew in vaine, 
And it raett one of the sheriff es men; 
Good Y^illiam. a Trent was slaine. 70 

18 It had beene better for William a Trent 

To hange upon a gallowe 
Then for to lye in the greenwoods, 
There slaine with an arrowe. 

19 And it is sayd, when men be mett, 

Six can doe more then tliree: 
And they have tane Litle lohn. 
And bound him ffast to a tree. 

20 *Thou shalt be drawen by dale and 

downe,' quoth, the sheriffe, 

* And hanged hye on a hill : ' 80 
*But thou may ffayle,' quoth Litle John, 

* If itt be Christs owne will.' 

21 Let us leave talking of Litle lohn. 

For hee is bound fast to a tree, 



1 In Yorkshire, 
* yew. 



2 wajT^s. 
5 prepared. 



* valley. 
6 salration. 



And talke of Guy and Robin Hood, 
In the green woode where they bee. 

22 How these two yeomen together they 

mett, 
Under the leaves of lyne. 
To see what marchandise they made 
Even at that same time. 90 

23 'Good morrow, good fellow,' quoth 

Sir Guy; 
* Good morrow, good ffellow,' quoth 

hee; 
* Methinkes by this bow thou beares in 

thy hand, 
A good archer thou seems to bee.' 

24 * I am wilf uU of my way,' "^ quoth Siv 

Guye, 

* And of my morning tyde : ' ^ 

* I 'le lead thee through the wood,* 

quoth Robin, 
*Good ffellow, I 'le be thy guide.* 

25 * I seeke an outlaw,' quoth Sir Guye, 

*Men call him Robin Hood; 100 

I had rather meet with him upon a day 
Then forty pound of golde.' 

26 *If you tow mett, itt wold be seene 

whether were better 
Afore yee did part awaye; 
Let us some other pastime find. 
Good ffellow, I thee pray. 

27 * Let us some other masteryes ^ make, 

Ajid wee will walke in the woods even ; 
Wee may chance mee[t] with Robin 
Hoode 
Att some unsett Steven.* ^'^ no 

28 They cutt them downe the summer 

shroggs ^^« 
Which, grew both under a bryar. 
And sett them three score rood in 
twinn,i2 
To shoote the prickes ^^ full neare. 

29 * Leade on, good ffellow,' sayd Sir Guye, 

* Lead on, I doe bidde thee : ' 

* Nay, by my faith,' quoth Robin Hood, 

' The leader thou shalt bee.' 

' i.e., am lost, s Possibly he wants to know the time, 
as well as the road. 9 trials of skill. 10 unexpected 
time. " shrubs. 12 rods distant, i« targets. 



ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE 



305 



30 The first good shoot that Robin ledd 

Did not shoote an inch the pricke 
fProe ; 120 

Guy was an archer good enoughe, 
But he cold neere shoote soe. 

31 The second shoote Sir Guy shott, 

He shott Within the garlande;^ 
But Robin Hoode shott it better then 
hee, 
For he clove the good pricke-wande. 

32 * Gods blessing on thy heart ! ' sayes 

Guye, 

* Goode ffellow, thy shooting is goode ; 
For an thy hart be as good as thy 

hands, 
Thou were better then Robin Hood. 

33 *Tell me thy name, good ffellow,' 

quoth Guy, 131 

* Under the leaves of lyne : ' 

*Nay, by my faith,' quoth good Robin, 
' Till thou have told me thine.' 

34 'I dwell by dale and downe,* quoth 

Guye, 
And I have done many a curst turne ; 
And he that calles me by my right 

name 
Calles me Guye of good Gysborne.* 

35 *My dwelling is in the wood,' sayes 

Robin; 
*By thee I set right nought; 140 

My name is Robin Hood of Barnesdale, 
A ffellow thou has long sought.' 

36 He that had neither beene a kithe nor 

kin 
Might have seene a full fayre sight, 
To see how together these yeomen went, 
With blades both browne and bright. 

37 To have seene how these yeomen to- 

gether foug[ht], 
Two bowers of a summers day; 
Itt was neither Guy nor Robin Hood 
That ffettled them to flye away. 150 

38 Robin was reacheles on 2 a roote. 

And stumbled at that tyde. 
And Guy was quicke and nimble withall, 
And hitt him ore the left side. 
1 Of leaves hung on the rod ? 2 heedless of. 



39 * Ah, deere Lady ! ' sayd Robin Hoode, 

* Thou art both mother and may! ^ 
I thinke it was never mans destinye 
To dye before his day.' 

40 Robin thought on Our Lady deere, 

And soone leapt up againe, 160 

And thus he came with an awkwarde ^ 
stroke ; . 
Good Sir Guy hee has slayne. 

41 He tooke Sir Guys head by the hayre. 

And sticked itt on his bowes end: 

* Thou hast beene traytor all thy liffe, 

W^i'ch thing must have an ende.' 

42 Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe, 

And nicked Sir Guy in the fface, 
That hee was never on a woman borne 
Cold tell who Sir Guye was. 170 

43 Sales, ' Lye there, lye there, good Sir 

Guye, 
And with me be not wrothe; 
If thou have had the worse stroakes at 

my hand. 
Thou shalt have the better cloathe.* 

44 Robin did off his gowne of greene. 

Sir Guy hee did it throws; 
And hee put on that capull-hyde, 
That cladd him topp to toe. 

45 * The bowe, the arrowes, and litle home, 

And with me now I 'le beare; i8o 

Ffor now I will goe to Barn[e]sdale, 
To see how my men doe ffare.' 

46 Robin sett Guyes home to his mouth, 

A lowd blast in it he did blow; 
That beheard the sheriffe of Notting- 
ham, 
As he leaned under a lowe.® 

47 ' Hearken ! hearken ! ' sayd the sheriffe, 

' I heard noe tydings but good ; 
For yonder I heare Sir Guyes home blowe, 
For he hath slaine Robin Hoode. 190 

48 'For yonder I heare Sir Guyes home 

blow, 
Itt blowes soe well in tyde, 
For yonder comes that wighty yeoman, 
Cladd in his capull-hyde. 
' maid. * backhand. * hilL 



3o6 



BALLADS 



49 * Come hither, thou good Sir Guy, 

Aske of mee what thou wilt have ' : 
* I 'le none of thy gold,' say es Robin Hood, 
' Nor I 'le none of itt have. 

50 * But now I have slaine the mastery^ he 

sayd, 
' Let nie goe strike the knave ; 200 
This is all the reward I aske. 
Nor noe other will I have.' 

51 * Thou art a madman,' said the shirifPe, 

*Thou sholdest have had a knights 
ffee; 
Seeing thy asking [hath] beene soe badd, 
Well granted it shall be.' 

52 But Litle lohn heard his master speake, 

Well he knew that was his steven; ^ 
* Now shall I be loset,' quoth. Litle lohn, 

* With Christs might in heaven.' 210 

53 But Robin hee hyed him towards Litle 

lohn, 
Hee thought hee wold loose him belive ; 
The sheriff e and all his companye 
Fast after him did drive. 

54 * Stand abacke ! stand abacke!' sayd 

Robin; 

* Why draw you mee soe neere ? 
Itt was never the use in our countrye 

One's shrift another shold heere.' 

55 But Robin pulled forth an Irysh kuiffe. 

And losed lohn hand and ffoote, 220 
And gave him Siv Guyes bow in his hand, 
And bade it be his boote. 

56 But lohn tooke Guyes bow in his hand — 

His arrowes were rawstye by the 
roote ^ — ; 
The sherriffe saw Litle lohn draw a bow 
And ffettle him to shoote. 

57 Towards his house in Nottingam 

He ffled full fast away. 
And soe did all his companye, 

Not one behind did stay. 230 

58 But he cold neither soe fast goe, 

Nor away soe fast runn. 
But Litle lohn, with an arrow broade, 
Did cleave his heart in twinn. 



1 voice. 



2 rusted on the end ? 



ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND 
BURIAL 

1 When Robin Hood and Little John — 

Down a down a down a down — 
Went oer yon bank of broom, 

Said Robin Hood bold to Little John, 

* We have shot for many a pound.' 

Hey down, a down, a down. 

2 * But I am not able to shoot one shot more, 

My broad arrows will not flee ; 
But I have a cousin lives down below, 
Please God, she will bleed me.' 10 

3 Now Robin he is to fair Kirkly gone. 

As fast as he can win ; ^ 
But before he came there, as we do hear. 
He was taken very ill. 

4 And when he came to fair Kirkly-hall, 

He knockd all at the ring, 
But none was so ready as his cousin her- 
self 
For to let bold Robin in. 

5 *Will you please to sit down, cousin 

Robin,' she said, 

* And drink some beer with me ? ' 20 

* No, I will neither eat nor drink, 

Till I am blooded by thee.' 

6 'Well, I have a room, cousin Robin,' 

she said, 

* Which you did never see. 
And if you please to walk therein, 

You blooded by me shall be.' 

7 She took him by the lily-white hand, 

And led him to a private room. 
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood, 
While one drop of blood would run 
down. 30 

8 She blooded him in a vein of the arm. 

And locked him up in the room ; 
Then did he bleed all the live-long day. 
Until the next day at noon. 

9 He then bethought him of a casement 

there, 
Thinking for to get down ; 
But was so weak he could not leap, 
He could not get him down. 



ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS 307 



10 He then bethought him of his bugle-horn, 

Which hung low down to his knee; 40 
He set his horn unto his mouth, 
And blew out weak blasts three. 

11 Then Little John, when hearing him, 

As he sat under a tree, 
' I fear my master is now near dead, 
He blows so wearily.' 

12 Then Little John to fair Kirkly is gone. 

As fast as he can dree; ^ 
But when he came to Kirkly-hall, 
He broke locks two or three : 50 

13 Until he came bold Robin to see, 

Then he fell on his knee; 
*A boon, a boon,' cries Little John, 
' Master, I beg of thee.' 

14 * What is that boon,' said Robin Hood, 

* Little John, [thou] begs of me ? ' 
* It is to burn fair Kirkly-hall, 

And all their nunnery.' 

15 * Now nay, now nay,' quoth Robin Hood. 

* That boon I '11 not grant thee ; 60 
I never hurt woman in all my life, 

Nor men in woman's company. 

16 * 1 never hurt fair maid in all my time. 

Nor at mine end shall it be; 
But give me my bent bow in my hand, 

And a broad arrow I '11 let Hee 
And where this arrow is taken up. 

There shall my grave digged be. 

17 * Lay me a green sod under my head. 

And another at my feet; 70 

And lay my bent bow by my side. 

Which was my music sweet; 
And make my grave of gravel and green. 

Which is most right and meet. 

18 * Let me have length and breadth 

enough, 
With a green sod under my head; 
That they may say, when I am dead, 
Here lies bold Robin Hood.' 

19 These words they readily granted him. 

Which did bold Robin please: 80 

And there they buried bold Robin Hood, 
Within the fair Kirkleys. 
1 endure, go. 



ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE 
WIDOW'S THREE SONS 

1 There are twelve months in aU the year 

As I hear many men say. 
But the merriest month in all the year, 
Is the merry month of May. 

2 Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone. 

With a link a down and a day, 
And there he met a silly old woman, 
Was weeping on the way. 

3 ' What news ? what news, thou silly old 

woman ? 
What news hast thou for me ? ' to 

Said she, ' There 's three squires in Not- 
tingham town 
To-day is condemned to die.' 

4 * O have they parishes burnt ? ' he said, 

* Or have they ministers slain ? 
Or have they robbed any virgin. 

Or with other men's wives have 
lain?' 

5 * They have no parishes burned, good sir, 

Nor yet have ministers slain. 
Nor have they robbed any virgin, 

Nor with other men's wives have 
lain.' 20 

6 ' O what have they done ? ' said bold 

Robin Hood, 
' I pray thee tell to me : ' 
* It's for slaying of the king's fallow deer. 
Bearing their long bows with thee.' 

7 * Dost thou not mind, old woman,' he said, 

* Since thou made me sup and dine ? 
By the truth of my body,' quoth bold 

Robin Hood, 

* You could not tell it in better time.' 

8 Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, 

With a link a down and a day, 30 

And there he met with a silly old palmer, 
Was walking along the highway. 

9 ' What news ? what news, thou silly old 

man ? 
What news, I do thee pray ? ' 
Said he, ' Three squires in Nottingham 
town 
Are condemned to die this day.* 



3o8 



BALLADS 



10 * Come change thy apparel with me, old 

man, 
Come change thy apparel for mine ; 
Here is forty shillings in good silver. 
Go drink it in beer or wine.' 40 

11 * O thine apparel is good,' he said, 

' And mine is ragged and torn; 
Wherever you go, wherever you ride. 
Laugh neer an old man to scorn.' 

12 ' Come change thy apparel with me, old 

churl. 
Come change thy apparel with mine ; 
Here are twenty pieces of good broad 

gold. 
Go feast thy brethren with wine.* 

13 Then he put on the old man's hat. 

It stood full high on the crown : 50 

* The first bold bargain that I come at, 

It shall make thee come down.' 

14 Then he put on the old man's cloak, 

Was patchd black, blew, and red ; 
He thought no shame all the day long 
To wear the bags of bread. 

15 Then he put on the old man's breeks,^ 

Was patchd from ballup ^ to side ; 
*By the truth of my body,' bold Robin 
can say, 

* This man lovd little pride.' 60 

16 Then he put on the old man's hose. 

Were patched from knee to wrist ; 

* By the truth of my body,' said bold 

Robin Hood, 

* I 'd laugh if I had any list.' ^ 

17 Then he put on the old man's shoes, 

Were patched both beneath and aboou ; 
Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath, 

* It 's good habit that makes a man.' 

18 Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone. 

With a link a down and a down, 70 
And there he met with the proud sheriff, 
Was walking along the town. 

19 * O save, O save, O sheriff,' he said, 

* O save, and you may see ! 

And what will you give to a silly old man 

To-day will your hangman be ? ' 
1 breeches. 2 front flap. 3 inclination. 



20 * Some suits, some suits,' the sheriff he 

said, 
' Some suits I '11 give to thee ; 
Some suits, some suits, and pence thir- 
teen 
To-day 's a hangman's fee.' 80 

21 Then Robin he turns him round about. 

And jumps from stock to stone ; 

* By the truth of my body,' the sheriff 

he said, 
'That's well jumpt, thou nimble old 
man.' 

22 * I was neer a hangman in all my life, 

Nor yet intends to trade ; 
But curst be he,' said bold Robin, 

* That first a hangman was made. 

23 I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt, 

And a bag for barley and corn ; 90 
A bag for bread, and a bag for beef, 
And a bag for my little small horn. 

24 * I have a horn in my pocket, 

I got it from Robin Hood, 
And still when I set it to my mouth 
For thee it blows little good.' 

25 ' O wind thy horn, thou proud fellow, 

Of thee I have no doubt; 
I wish that thou give such a blast 
Till both thy eyes fall out.' 100 

26 The first loud blast that he did blow, 

He blew both loud and shrill ; 
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men 
.^ Came riding over the hill. 

27 The next loud blast that he did give, 

He blew both loud and amain, 
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men 
Came shining over the plain. 

28 * O who are you,' the sheriff he said 

* Come tripping over the lee ? ' ,110 

* The 're my attendants,' brave Robin 

did say, 

* They '11 pay a visit to thee.' 

29 They took the gallows from the slack,^ 

They set it in the glen. 
They hangd the proud sheriff on that, 
Releasd their own three men. 
* low place. 



THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN 



309 



HUGH OF LINCOLN.i 

1 Four and twenty bonny boys 

Were playing at the ba, 
And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh, 
And he playd oer them a*. 

2 He kicked the ba with his right foot, 

And catchd it wi his knee, 
And throuch-and-thro the Jew's window 
He gard ^ the bonny ba flee. 

3 He 's doen him to the Jew's castell. 

And walked it round about ; 10 

And there he saw the Jew's daughter, 
At the window looking out. 

4 * Throw down the ba, ye Jew's daugh- 

ter, 
Throw down the ba to me ! ' 
* Never a bit,' says the Jew's daughter, 
* Till up to me come ye.' 

5 * How will I come up ? How can I 

come up ? 
How can I come to thee ? 
For as ye did to my auld father, 

The same ye '11 do to me.' 20 

6 She 's gane till her father's garden. 

And pu'd an apple red and green ; 
'T was a' to wyie him sweet Sir Hugh, 
And to entice him in. 

7 She 's led him in through ae dark door. 

And sae has she thro nine ; 
She 's laid him on a dressing-table. 
And stickit him like a swine. 

8 And first came out the thick, thick 

blood, 
And syne ^ came out the thin, 30 

And syne came out the bonny heart's 

blood; 
There was nae mair within. 

9 She 's rowd * him in a cake o lead, 

Bade him lie still and sleep ; 
She 's thrown him in Our Lady's draw- 
well. 
Was fifty fathom deep. 

1 Or The Jeic''s Daughter. The thirteenth century 
chroniclers tell the story. Such fabrications directed 
against the Jews have persisted ever since, especially in 
Russia. Cf. Chaucer's Prioress''s Tate. 

s then. 4 rolled. 



10 When bells were rung, and mass was 

sung. 
And a' the bairns came hame. 
When every lady gat hame her son. 
The Lady Maisry gat nane. 40 

11 She 's taen her mantle her about. 

Her coffer by the hand, 
And she 's gane out to seek her son, 
And wanderd oer the land. 

12 She 's doen her to the Jew's castell, 

Where a' were fast asleep : 

* Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, 

I pray you to me speak.' 

13 She 's doen her to the Jew's gar- 

den, 49 

Thought he had been gathering fruit : 

* Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, 

I pray you to me speak.' 

14 She neard Our Lady's deep draw-well. 

Was fifty fathom deep : 

* Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, 

I pray you to me speak.' 

15 ' Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear. 

Prepare my winding sheet, 
And at the back o merry Lincoln 
The morn ^ I will you meet.' 60 

16 Now Lady Maisry is gane hame, 

Made him a winding sheet, 

And at the back o merry Lincoln 

The dead corpse did her meet. 

17 And a' the bells o merry Lincoln 

Without men's hands were rung, 
And a' the books o merry Lincoln 

Were read without man's tongue, 
And neer was such a burial 

Sin Adam's days begun. 70 



THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN s 

1 It fell about the Lammas time. 

When the muir-men won their hay. 
That the doughty Earl Douglas went 
Into England to catch a prey. 

5 tomorrow, 

6 This battle waa fought in 1388, and Froissart has a 
fine account of it in his Chronicles for that year. The 
ballad grew up presumably soon after. Our version is 
that supplied by James Hogg to Sir Walter Scott. 



3IO 



BALLADS 



2 He chose the Gordons and the Graemes, 

With the Lindsays light and gay; 
But the Jardines wadua wi him ride, 
And they rued it to this day. 

3 And he has burnt the dales o Tine 

And part of Almonshire, lo 

And three good towers on Roxbrugh 
fells 
He left them all on fire. 

4 Then he marched up to Newcastle, 

And rode it round about: 
' O whae 's the lord of this castle, 
Or whae 's the lady o 't ? ' 

6 But up spake proud Lord Piercy then, 
And O but he spak hie ! 
* I am the lord of this castle, 

And my wife 's the lady gaye.' 20 

6 * If you are lord of this castle, 

Sae weel it pleases me; 
For ere I cross the border again 
The ane of us shall die.* 

7 He took a lang speir in his hand, 

Was made of the metal free, 
And for to meet the Douglas then 
He rode most furiously. 

8 But O how pale his lady lookd, 

Frae off the castle wa, 30 

When down before the Scottish spear 
She saw brave Piercy fa ! 

9 How pale and wan his lady lookd, 

Frae off the castle hieght. 
When she beheld her Piercy yield 
To doughty Douglas' might ! 

10 * Had we twa been upon the green. 

And never an eye to see, 
I should have had ye flesh and fell; 
But your sword shall gae wi me.' 40 

11 'But gae you up to Otterburn, 

And there wait dayes three, 
And if I come not ere three days' end 
A fause lord ca ye me.' 

12 ' The Otterburn *s a bonny burn, 

'Tis pleasant there to be, 
But there is naught at Otterburn 
To feed my men and me. 



13 * The deer rins wild owr hill and dale. 

The birds fly wild frae tree to tree, 50 
And there is neither bread nor kale 
To fend my men and me. 

14 * But I will stay at Otterburn, 

Where you shall welcome be; 
And if ye come not ere three days' end 
A coward I '11 ca thee. 

15 ' Then gae your ways to Otterburn, 

And there wait dayes three; 
And if I come not ere three days' end 
A coward ye's ca me.' 60 

16 They lighted high on Otterburn, 

Upon the bent ^ so i)rown, 
They lighted high on Otterburn, 
And threw their pallions "^ down. 

17 And he that had a bonny boy 

Sent his horses to grass, 
And he that had not a bonny boy 
His ain servant he was. 

18 But up then spak a little page. 

Before the peep of the dawn; 70 

* O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, 
For Piercy 's hard at hand ! ' 

19 * Ye lie, ye lie, ye loud liar, 

Sae loud I hear ye lie ! 
The Piercy hadna men yestreen 
To dight ^ my men and me. 

20 * But I have seen a dreary dream, 

Beyond the isle o Sky; 
I saw a dead man won the fight, 

And I think that man was L' 80 

21 He belted on his good broad-sword 

And to the field he ran, 
Where he met wi the proud Piercy, 
And a' his goodly train. 

22 When Piercy wi the Douglas met, 

I wat he was right keen ; 
They swakked their swords till sair they 
swat, 
And the blood ran them between. 

23 But Piercy wi his good broad-sword. 

Was made o the metal free, 90 

Has wounded Douglas on the brow 
Tni backward he did flee. 
1 moor. 2 pavilions. ^ clean up. 



CHEVY CHASE 



3" 



24 Then he calld on his little page, 
And said, 'Run speedily. 
And bring my am dear sister's son, 
Sir Hugh Montgomery.' 

j 25 Who, when he saw the Douglas bleed, 
His heart was wonder wae: 
* Now, by my sword, that haughty lord 
Shall rue laefore he gae.' loo 

26 * My nephew bauld,' the Douglas said, 

• What boots the death of ane ? 
Last night I dreamed a dreary dream, 
And I ken the day 's thy ain.^ 

27 ' I dreamd I saw a battle fought 

Beyond the isle o Sky, 
When lo ! a dead man wan the field, 
And I thought that man was I. 

I 28 * My wound is deep, I fain wad sleep, 
li Nae mair I '11 fighting see; no 

Gae lay me in the breaken bush 
That grows on yonder lee. 

29 ' But tell na ane of my brave men 

That I lye bleeding wan. 
But let the name of Douglas still 
Be shouted in the van. 

30 * And bury me here on this lee. 

Beneath the blooming briar, 
And never let a mortal ken 

A kmdly Scot lyes here.' 120 

31 He liftit up that noble lord, 

Wi the saut tear in his ee. 
And hid him in the breaken bush, 
On yonder lily lee. 

32 The moon was clear, the day drew near, 

The spears in flinters flew, 
But mony gallant Englishman 
Ere day the Scotsman slew. 

33 Sir Hugh Montgomery he rode 

Thro all the field in sight, 130 

And loud the name of Douglas still 
He urgd wi a' his might. 

j| 34 The Gordons good, in English blood 
il They steeped their hose and shoon, 

The Lindsaj^s flew like fire about. 
Till a' the fray was doon. 
1 own. 



35 When stout Sir Hugh wi Piercy met, 

I wat he was right fain; 
They swakked their swords till sair they 
swat, 
And the blood ran down like rain. 140 

36 * O yield thee, Piercy,' said Sir Hugh, 

' O yield, or ye shall die ! ' 
' Fain wad I yield,' proud Piercy said, 
' But neer to loun ^ like thee.' 

37 'Thou shalt not yield to knave nor 

loun, 
Nor shalt thou yield to me; 
But yield thee to the breaken bush 
That grows on yonder lee.' 

38 ' I will not yield to bush or brier, 

Nor will I yield to thee; 150 

But I will yield to Lord Douglas, 
Or Sir Hugh Montgomery.' 

39 When Piercy knew it was Sir Hugh, 

He fell low on his knee. 
But soon he raisd him up again, 
Wi mickle courtesy. 

40 He left not an Englishman on the field 

That he hadna either killd or taen 
Ere his heart's blood was cauld. 



CHEVY CHASES 

1 God prosper long our noble kin^r, 

our lifFes and saftyes all ! 
A woe full hunting once there did 
in Chevy Chase befall. 

2 To drive the deere with hound and 

home 
Erie Pearcy took the way: 
The child may rue that is unborne the 
hunting of that day ! 

« fellow. 

3 Probably founded remotely on the same happening 
as Otterbum. This is the ballad that stirred Sir Philip 
Sidney in his Defence of Foesie to remark: " Certeinly 
I must confesse my own barbarousness. I never heard 
the olde song of Percy and Douglas that I foimd not 
my heart moovedmore than with a trumpet ; and yet it 
is sung but by some blind crouder [fiddler], with no 
rougher voyce then rude stile : which, being so evill ap- 
parrelled in the dust and cob-webbes of that uncivill age, 
what would it worke trymmed in the gorgeous eloquence 
of Pindar ! " Addison's appreciation of it is in Nos. 70 
and 74 of the Spectator. 



312 



BALLADS 



3 The stout Erie of Northumberland 

a vow to God did make lo 

His pleasure in the Scottish woods 
three sommers days to take, 

4 The cheefest harts in Chevy C[h]ase 

to kill and beare away: 
These tydings to Erie Douglas came 
in Scottland, where he lay. 

5 Who sent Erie Pearcy present word 

he would prevent his sport; 
The English erle, not fearing that, 
did to the woods resort, 20 

6 With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, 

All chosen men of might, 
Who knew fPull well in time of neede 
to ayme their shafts arright. 

7 The gallant greyhound [s] swiftly ran 

to chase the fallov7 deere; 
On Munday they began to hunt, 
ere daylight did appeare. 

8 And long before high noone the had 

a hundred fat buckes slaine; 30 

Then having dined, the drovyers went 
to rouze the deare againe. 

9 The bowmen mustered on the hills, 

well able to endure; 
Theire backsids all with speciall care 
that day were guarded sure. 

10 The hounds ran swiftly through the 

woods 
the nimble deere to take, 
That with their cryes the hills and dales 
an eccho shrill did make. 40 

11 Lord Pearcy to the querry went 

to veiw the tender deere; 
Qwoth he, * Erie Douglas promised once 
this day to meete me heere; 

12 < But if I thought he wold not come, 

noe longer wold I stay.' 
With that a brave younge gentlman 
thus to the erle did say: 



13 * Loe, yonder doth Erie Douglas come 
hys men in armour bright; 
Full twenty hundred Scottish speres 
all marching in our sight. 



14 * All men of pleasant Tivydale, 

fast by the river Tweede : ' 
' O ceaze yowr sportts ! ' Erie Pearcy said, 
' and take your bowes with speede. 

15 ' And now with me, my countrymen, 

yowr courage forth advance ! 
For there was never champion yett, 
in Scottland nor in Ffrance, 60 

16 * That ever did on horsbacke come, 

[but], and if my hap it were, 
I durst encounter man for man, 
with him to break a spere.' 

17 Erie Douglas on his milke-white steede, 

most like a baron bold. 
Bode formost of his company, 
whose armor shone like gold. 

18 * Shew me,* sayd hee, * whose men you 

bee 
that hunt soe boldly heere, 70 

That without my consent doe chase 
and kill my fallow deere.' 

19 The first man that did answer make 

was noble Pearcy hee. 
Who sayd, ' Wee list not to declare 
nor shew whose men wee bee ; 

20 * Yett wee will spend our deerest bled 

thy cheefest harts to slay.' 
Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe, 
and thus in rage did say: 80 

21 * Ere thus I will outbraved bee, 

one of us tow shall dye ; 
I know thee well, an erle thou art; 
Lord Pearcy, soe am I. 

22 * But trust me, Pearcye, pittye it were, 

and great offence, to kill 
Then any of these our guiltlesse men, 
for they have done none ill. 

23 * Let thou and I the battel! trye, 

and set our men aside: ' 90 

* Accurst bee [he !] ' Erie Pearcye sayd, 
* by whome it is denyed.' 

24 Then stept a gallant squire forth — 

Witherington was his name — 
Who said, ' I wold not have it told 
To Henery our kin^, for shame, 



CHEVY CHASE 



313 



25 * Thai ere my captaine fought on foote, 

and I stand looking on. 
You bee two Eries,' quoth Withermg- 
ton, 

* and I a squier alone ; 100 

26 * I 'le doe the best that doe I may, 

while I have power to stand; 
While I have power to weeld my sword, 
I 'le fight with hart and hand.' 

27 Our English archers bent their bowes; 

their harts were good and trew; 

Att the first flight of arrowes sent, 

full foure score Scotts the slew. 

28 To drive the deere with hound and 

home, 
Dauglas bade on the bent; no 

Two captaines moved with mickle 
might, 
their speres to shivers went. 

29 They closed full fast on everye side, 

noe slaeknes there was found. 
But many a gallant gentleman 
lay gasping on the ground. 

30 O Christ ! it was great greeve to see 

how eche man chose his spare, 
And how the blood out of their brests 
did gush like water cleare. 120 

31 At last these two stout erles did meet, 

like captaines of great might; 
Like lyons woode 1 they layd on lode;^ 
the made a cruell fight. 

32 The fought untill they both did sweat, 

with swords of tempered Steele, 
Till blood downe their cheekes like 
raine 
the trickling downe did feele. 

33 * O yeeld thee, Peareye ! ' Douglas 

sayd, 

* And in faith I will thee bringe 130 
Where thou shall high advanced bee 

by lames our Scottish kin^. 

34 * Thy ransom e I will freely give, 

and this report of thee. 
Thou art the most couragious kni^^t 

[that ever I did see.] ' 
1 mad. > load, i.e., they laid on heartily. 



35 * Noe, Douglas ! ' qwoth Erie Percy then, 

* thy prof er I doe scorne ; 

I will not yeelde to any Scott 

that ever yett was borne ! ' 140 

36 With ^^at there came an arrow keene, 

out of an English bow, 
Which stroke Erie Douglas on the brest 
a deepe and deadlye blow. 

37 Who never sayd more words than these; 

* Fight on, my merry men all ! 
For why, my life is att [an] end, 

lord Pearcy sees my fall.' 

38 Then leaving liflPe, Erie Pearcy tooke 

the dead man by the hand ; "^ 150 

Who said, ' Erie Dowglas, for thy life, 
wold I had lost my land ! 

39 *0 Christ ! my verry hart doth bleed 

for sorrow for thy sake, 
For sure, a more redoubted k7iight 
mischance cold^ never take.' 

40 A knight amongst the Scotts there was 

w^ich saw Erie Douglas dye, 
Who streight in hart did vow revenge 
upon the Lord Peareye. 160 

41 Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he called, 

who, with a spere full bright, 

Well mounted on a gallant steed, 

ran feircly through the fight, 

42 And past the English archers all, 

without all dread or feare, 
And tlirough Erie Percyes body then 
he thrust his hatfuU spere. 

43 With such a vehement force and might 

his body he did gore, 170 

The staff ran through the other side 
a large cloth-yard and more. 

44 Thus did both those nobles dye, 

whose courage none cold staine; 
An English archer then perceived 
the noble erle was slaine. 

45 He had [a] good bow in his hand, 

made of a trusty tree; 
An arrow of a cloth-yard long 

to the hard head haled hee. 180 

' could. 



314 



BALLADS 



46 Against S/r Hugh Mountgomerye 

his shaft full right he sett; 
The grey-goose-winge that was there-on 
in his harts bloode was wett. 

47 This fight from breake of day did last 

till setting of the sun, 
For when the rung the evening-bell 
the battele scarse was done. 

48 With stout Erie Percy there was slaine 

Sir lohn of Egerton, 190 

Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir Williani, 
Sir lames, that bold barron. 

49 And with Sir George and Sir lames, 

both 'knights of good account, 
Good Sir Raphe Rebbye there was slaine, 
whose prowesse did surmount. 

50 For Witherington needs must I wayle 

as one in dolefull dumpes, 
For when his leggs were smitten of, 
he fought upon his stumpes. 200 

51 And with Erie Dowglas there was slaine 

Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, 
And Sir Charles Morrell, that from feelde 
one foote wold never flee; 

52 Sir Roger Hever of Harcliffe tow, 

his sisters sonne was hee; 
Sir David Lamwell, well esteemed, 
but saved he cold not bee. 

53 And the Lore? Maxwell, in like case, 

with Douglas he did dye; 210 

Of twenty hundred Scottish speeres, 
scarce fifty-five did flye. 

54 Of fifteen hundred Englishmen 

went home but fifty-three; 
The rest in Chevy Chase were slaine, 
under the greenwoode tree. 

55 Next day did many widdowes come 

their husbands to bewayle; 
They washt their wounds in brinish 
teares, 
but all wold not prevayle. 220 

56 Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple blood, 

the bore with them away; 
They kist them dead a thousand times 
ere the were cladd in clay. 



57 The newes was brought to Eddenbor- 

row, 
where Scottlands kin^ did rayne. 
That brave Erie Douglas soddainlye 
was with an arrow slaine. 

58 * O heavy newes ! ' King lames can say; 

' Scottland may wittenesse bee 230 
I have not any captaine more 
of such account as hee.' 

59 Like tydings to Kin^ Henery came, 

within as short a space, 
That Pearcy of Northumberland 
was slaine in Chevy Chase. 

60 ' Now God be with him ! ' said our kin^, 

' sith it will noe better bee; 
I trust I have within my realme 

five hundred as good as hee. 240 

61 'Yett shall not Scotts nor Scottland 

say 
but I will vengeance take, 
And be revenged on them all 
for brave Erie Percyes sake.' 

62 This vow the "king did well performe 

after on Humble-downe; 
In one day fifty kni^^ts were slayne, 
with lords of great renowne. 

63 And of the rest, of small account, 

did many hundreds dye; 250 

Thus endeth the hunting in Chevy 
Chase, 
made by the Erie Pearcye. 

64 God save our king, and blesse this land 

with plentye, ioy, and peace. 
And grant hencforth that foule debate 
twixt noble men may ceaze ! 



JOHNIE ARMSTRONG! 

1 There dwelt a man in faire Westmer- 
land, 
ionne Armestrong men did him call, 
He had nither lands nor rents coming in. 
Yet he kept eight score men in his 
hall. 
1 This ballad is historical. In 1530 James V of Scot- 
land cleaned up the Border, and among other outlaws 
hanged John Armstrong. This English version shifts 
Johnie's residence to Westmoreland. 



MARY HAMILTON 



315 



2 He had horse and harness for them all, 

Goodly steeds were all milke-white; 

O the golden bands an about their necks, 

And their weapons, they were all alike. 

3 Newes then was brought unto the king 

That there was sicke a won ^ as hee, 10 
That lived lyke a bold out-law. 
And robbed all the north country. 

4 The king he writt an a letter then, 

A letter which was large and long; 
He signed it with his owne hand, 

And he promised to doe him no wrong, 

5 When this letter came lonne untill, 

His heart it was as blythe as birds on 
the tree: 

* Never was I sent for before any king. 

My father, my grandfather, nor none 
but mee. 20 

6 ' And if wee goe the king before, 

I would we went most orderly; 
Every man of you shall have his scarlet 
cloak, 
Laced with silver laces three. 

7 ' Every won of you shall have his vel- 

vett coat, 
Laced with sillver lace so white; 
O the golden bands an about your necks. 
Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke.' 

8 By the morrow morninge at ten of the 

clock, 29 

Towards Edenbnrough gon was hee. 
And with him all his eight score men; 
Good lord, it was a goodly sight for 

to see ! 

9 When lonne came befower the king. 

He fell downe on his knee; 

* O pardon, my soveraine leige,' he said, 

*0 pardon my eight score men and 
mee ! ' 

10 ' Thou shalt have no pardon, thou tray- 
tor strong. 
For thy eight score men nor thee ; 
For to-morrow morning by ten of the 
clock. 
Both thou and them shall hang ou the 
gallow-tree.' - 40 

1 such a one. 



11 But lonne looke'd over his left shoulder. 

Good Lord, what a grevious look 

looked hee ! 
Saying, ' Asking grace of a graceles 

face — 
Why there is none for you nor me.' 

12 But lonne had a bright sword by his side 

And it was made of the mettle so free, 
That had not the king stept his foot aside, 
He had smitten his head from his 
faire bodde. 

13 Saying, ' Fight on, my merry men all. 

And see that none of you be taine; 50 
For rather than men shall say we were 
hange'd. 
Let them report how we were slaine.' 

14 Then, God wott, faire Eddenburrough 

rose, 
And so besett poore lonne rounde, 
That fowerscore and tenn of lounes 

best men 
Lay gasping all upon the ground. 

15 Then like a mad man lonne laide about, 

And like a mad man then fought hee, 

Untill a falce Scott came lonne behinde, 

And runn him through the faire 

boddee. 60 

16 Saying, 'Fight on, my merry men all. 

And see that none of you be taine ; 
For I will stand by and bleed but awhile, 
And then will I come and fight againe.' 

17 Newes then was brought to young lonne 

Arme strong. 
As he stood by his nurses knee. 
Who vowed if ere he li ve'd for to be a man, 
O the treacherous Scots revengd 

hee 'd be. 



MARY HAMILTON 2 

1 Word 's gane to the kitchen, 
And word 's gane to the ha. 
That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairn 
To the hichest Stewart of a'. 

» There may be some slight historical foundation to 
this famous ballad. See the discussion by Child, m, 
381, and Andrew Lang, Blackwood's Magazine^ Sept. 1, 
1895. p. 381. This version, the oldest, was first printed 
in 1824. 



3i6 



BALLADS 



2 He 's courted her in the kitchen, 

He 's courted her in the ha, 
He 's courted her in the laigh ^ cellar, 
And that was warst of a'. 

3 She 's tyed it in her apron 

And she 's thrown it in the sea; lo 
Says, * Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe! 
You '1 ueer get mair o me.' 

4 Down then cam the auld queen, 

Goud tassels tying her hair: 
* O Marie, where 's the bonny wee babe 
That I heard greet sae sair ? ' 

5 ' There was never a babe intill my room. 

As little designs to be; 
It was but a touch o my sair side, 
Come oer my fair bodie.' 20 

6 ' O Marie, put on your robes o black, 

Or else your robes o brown. 
For ye maun gang wi me the night. 
To see fair Edinbro town.' 

7 * I winna put on my robes o black, 

Nor yet my robes o brown ; 
But I '11 put on my robes o white, 
To shine through Edinbro town.' 

8 When she gaed up the Cannogate, 

She laughd loud laughters three; 30 
But whan she cam down the Cannogate 
The tear blinded her ee. 

9 When she gaed up the Parliament stair, 

The heel cam aff her shee; 
And lang or she cam down again 
She was condemnd to dee. 

10 When she cam down the Cannogate, 

The Cannogate sae free. 
Many a ladie lookd oer her window, 
Weeping for this ladie. 40 

11 ' Ye need nae weep for me,* she says, 

* Ye need nae weep for me; 

For had I not slain mine own sweet babe, 
This death I wadna dee. 

12 * Bring me a bottle of wine,' she says, 

* The best that eer ye hae, 

That I may drink to my weil-wishers, 
And they may drink to me. 
1 low. 



13 * Here 's a health to the jolly sailors. 

That sail upon the main; 50 

Let them never let on to my father and 
mother 
But what I 'm coming hame. 

14 * Here 's a health to the jolly sailors. 

That sail upon the sea; 
Let them never let on to my father and 
mother 
That I cam here to dee. 

15 * Oh little did my mother think, 

The day she cradled me. 
What lands I was to travel through. 
What death I was to dee. 60 

16 ' Oh little did my father think, 

The day he held up me. 
What lands I was to travel through, 
What death I was to dee. 

17 * Last night I washd the queen's feet, 

And gently laid her down; 
And a' the thanks I 've gotten the 
nicht 
To be hangd in Edinbro town ! 

18 * Last nicht there was four Maries, 

The nicht there '1 be but three; 70 
There was Marie Seton, and Marie 
Beton, 
And Marie Carmichael, and me.' 



CAPTAIN CAR2 

1 It befell at Martynmas, 

When wether waxed colde, 

Captaine Care said to his men, 

We must go take a holde. 

Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,^ 
And sike and like to die; 

The sikest nighte that ever I abode, 
God lord have mercy on me ! 

2 ' Haille, master, and wether ^ you will, 

And wether ye like it best ' ; 10 

* To the castle of Crecrynbroghe, 
And there we will take owr reste.* 

2 Also called Edom Gordon from the historical 
original, Adam Gordon, who in 1571 as deputy-lieu- 
tenant for Mary Queen of Scots thus burnt the Forbes 
(not Hamilton) hold of Towie. 

8 too too sick. < whither. 



CAPTAIN CAR 



317 



3 * I knowe wher is a gay castle, 

Is builded of lyme and stone; 
Within their is a gay ladie, 
Her lord is riden and gone.' 

4 The ladie she lend on her castle-walle, 

She loked upp and downe; 
There was she ware of an host of men, 
Come riding to the towne. 20 

5 * So yow, my meri men all, 

And se yow what I see ? 
Yonder I see a host of men, 
I muse who they bee.' 

6 She thought he had ben her wed lord, 

As he comd riding home ; 
Then was it traitwr Captaiue Care, 
The lord of Ester-towne. 

7 They wer no soner at supper sett. 

Then after said the grace, 30 

Or Captaine Care and all his men 
Wer lighte aboute the place. 

8 ' Gyve oner thi howsse, thou lady gay. 

And I will make the a bande; ^ 
To-nighte thou shall ly within my armes, 
To-morrowe thou shall ere ^ my lande.' 

9 Then bespacke the eldest sonne, 

That was both whitt and redder 
* O mother dere, geve over jour howsse, 
Or elks we shalbe deade.' 40 

10 *I will not geve over my hous,' she saithe, 

* Not for feare of my lyffe ; 

It shalbe talked throughout the land. 
The slaughter of a wyffe. 

11 * Fetch me my pestilett,^ 

And charge me my gonne, 
ThatI may shott at yonder bloddy butcher, 
The lord of Easter- towne.' 

12 Sty fly vpon her wall she stode. 

And lett the pellettes flee; 50 

But then she myst the blody bucher. 
And she slew other three. 

13 * [I will] not geve over my h ous ,' she saithe, 

* Netheir for lord nor lowne ; 
Nor yet for traitour Captaine Care, 

The lord of Easter-towne. 
1 compact. 2 inherit. ' pistolet. 



14 * I desire of Captine Care, 

And all his bloddye band, 
That he would save my eldest sonne. 
The eare of all my lande.* 60 

15 * Lap him in a shete,' he sayth, 

* And let him downe to me, 
And I shall take him in my armes, 

His waran ^ shall I be.' 

16 The captayne sayd unto him selfe: 

Wyth sped, before the rest, 
He cut his tonge out of his head, 
His hart out of his brest. 

17 He lapt them in a handkerchef. 

And knet it of knotes three, 70 

And cast them over the casteU-wall, 
At that gay ladye. 

18 * Fye vpon the, Captayne Care, 

And all thy bloddy band ! 
For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne. 
The ayre of all my land.' 

19 Then bespake the yongest sonne, 

That sat on the nurses knee, 
Sayth, 'Mother gay, geve over your house; 
It smoldereth me.' 80 

20 * I wold geve my gold,' she saith, 

* And so I wolde my ffee. 

For a blaste of the westryn wind, 
To dryve the smoke from thee. 

21 ' Fy vpon the, John Hamleton, 

That ever I paid the hyre ! 
For thou hast broken my castle-wall, 
And kyndled in the ffyre.' 

22 The lady gate * to her close parler, 

The fire fell aboute her head; 90 

She toke vp her children thre, 
Seth, * Babes, we are all dead.' 

23 Then bespake the hye steward. 

That is of hye degree; 
Saith, * Ladie gay, you are in close,^ 
Wether ye fighte or flee.' 

24 Lord Hamleton dremd in his dream. 

In Carvall where he laye, 
His halle were all of fyre, 

PI is ladie slayne or daye.' 100 

* warrant. 5 got, went. 6 enclosed. ^ before day. 



3i8 



BALLADS 



25 * Busk and bowne,^ my niery men all, 

Even and go ye with me; 
For I dremd that my haal was on fyre, 
My lady slayne or day.' 

26 He buskt him and bownd hym, 

And like a worthi knighte; 
And when he saw his hall burning, 
His harte was no dele lighte. 

27 He sett a trumpett till his mouth. 

He blew as it plesd his grace; no 

Twenty score of Hamlentous 
Was light aboute the place. 

28 * Had I kuowne as much yesternighte 

As I do to-daye, 
Captaine Care and all his men 
Should not have gone so quite. 

29 *Fye vpon the, Captaine Care, 

And all thy blody bande ! 
Thou haste slayne my lady gay. 

More wwrth then all thy lande. 120 

30 ' If thou had ought ^ eny ill will,' he saith, 

' Thou shoulde have taken my lyffe, 
And have saved my children thre, 
All and my lovesome wyffe.' 



THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY^ 

1 Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands, 

Oh where have you been ? 
They have slain the Earl of Murray, 
Aiid they layd him on the green. 

2 * Now wae be to thee, Huntly ! 

And wherefore did you sae ? 
I bade you bring him wi you, 
But forbade you him to slay.' 

3 He was a braw gallant, 

And he rid at the ring; ro 

And the bonny Earl of Murray, 
Oh he might have been a king ! 

4 He was a braw gallant, 

And he playd at the ba; 
And the bonny Earl of Murray 
Was the flower amang them a'. 

1 Arm and prepare. 2 owed. 

3 The handsome James Stewart, Earl of Murray, was 
slain in 1592. 



5 He was a braw gallant. 

And he playd at the glove; 
And the bonny Earl of Murray, 
Oh he was the Queen's love ! 

6 Oh lang will his lady 

Look oer the castle Down, 
Eer she see the Earl of Murray 

Come sounding thro the town ! 
Eer she, etc. 



KINMONT WILLIE 4 

1 O HAVE ye na heard o the f ause Sakelde ? 

have ye na heard o the keen Lord 

Scroop ? 
How they hae taen bauld Kinmont 
Willie, 
On Hairibee to hang him up ? 

2 Had Willie had but twenty men, 

But twenty men as stout as he, 
Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont 
taen, 
Wi eight score in his companie. 

3 They band his legs beneath the steed. 

They tied his hands behind his back; 10 
They guarded him, fivesome on each 

side. 
And they brought him ower the Liddel- 

rack. 

4 They led him thro the Liddel-rack, 

And also thro the Carlisle sands; 
They brought him to Carlisle castell. 
To be at my Lord Scroope's com- 
mands. 

5 ' My hands are tied, but my tongue is 

free, 
And whae will dare this deed avow ? 
Or answer by the border law ? 

Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch ? ' 20 

6 *Now hand thy tongue, thou rank 

reiver ! ^ 
There 's never a Scot shall set ye 
free; 
Before ye cross my castle-yate, 

1 trow ye shall take farewell o me.' 

4 This ballad, founded on actual events of about 1596, 
has been much touched up by Sir Walter Scott. 
6 robber. 



KINMONT WILLIE 



319 



7 ' Fear na ye that, my lord,' quo Willie; 

*By the faith o my bodie, Lord 
Scroop,' he said, 
* I never yet lodged in a hostelrie 
But I paid my la wing ^ before I gaed.' 

8 Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper, 

In Branksome Ha ^ where that he lay. 

That Lord Scroope has taen the Kin- 

mont Willie, 31 

Between the hours of night and day. 

9 He has taen the table wi his hand. 

He garrd the red wine spring on hie; 
*Now Christ's curse on my head,' he 
said, 
' But avenged of Lord Scroop I '11 be ! 

10 ' O is my basnet ^ a widow's curch? ^ 

Or my lance a wand of the willow- 
tree? 
Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand ? 

That an English lord should lightly ^ 



11 * And have they taen him Kinmont Willie, 

Against the truce of Border tide. 
And forgotten that the bauld Bacleuch 
Is keeper here on the Scottish side ? 

12 * And have they een taen him Kinmont 

Willie, 
Withouten either dread or fear, 
And forgotten that the bauld Bacleuch 
Can back a steed, or shake a spear ? 

13 ' O were there war between the lands, 

As well I wot that there is none, 50 
I would slight 6 Carlisle castell high, 
The it were builded of marble-stone. 

14 * I would set that castell in a low,"^ 

And sloken ^ it with English blood; 
There 's nevir a man in Cumberland 
Should ken where Carlisle castell 
stood. 

15 * But since nae war 's between the lands, 

And there is peace, and peace should 

be, 
I '11 neither harm English lad or lass, 
And yet the Kinmont freed shall 

be ! ' 60 

1 reckoning. 2 Hall. s helmet. * kerchief, 
headdrefis. * scorn. 6 destroy. ^ flame. ^ quench. 



16 He has calld him forty marchmen 

bauld, 
I trow they were of his ain name, 
Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, calld 

The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same. 

17 He has calld him forty marchmen bauld, 

Were kinsmen to the bauld Buc- 

cleuch, 
With spur on heel, and splent on spauld,^ 
And gleuves of green, and feathers 

blue. 

18 There were five and five before them a', 

Wi hunting-horns and bugles bright; 70 
And five and five came wi Buccleuch, 
Like Warden's men, arrayed for fight. 

19 And five and five like a mason-gang, 

That carried the ladders lang and hie; 
And five and five like broken men; 1*^ 
And so they reached the Woodhouse- 
lee. 

20 And as we crossed the Bateable Land, 

When to the English side we held, 
The first o men that we met wi, 

Whae sould it be but f ause Sakelde ! 80 

21 ' Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen ? ' 

Quo fause Sakelde; 'come tell to 
me!' 

* We go to hunt an English stag, 

Has trespassd on the Scots countrie.* 

22 ' Where be ye gaun, ye marshal-men ? ' 

Quo fause Sakelde; * come tell to me 
true ! ' 

* We go to catch a rank reiver. 

Has broken faith wi the bauld Buc- 
cleuch.' 

23 * Where are ye gaun, ye mason-lads. 

Why a' your ladders lang and hie ? ' 

* We gang to herrv ^^ a corbie's nest, 91 

That wons^2 not far f rae Woodhouse- 
lee.' 

24 * Where be ye gaun, ye broken men ? ' 

Quo fause Sakelde ; 'come tell to 
me!' 
Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, 
And the never a word o lear ^^ had he. 



10 outlaws. 11 harry, rob. 
18 learning, instruction. 



9 armor on shoulder. 
12 dwells. 



320 



BALLADS 



25 * Why trespass ye on the English side ? 

Row 1 -footed outlaws, stand ! ' quo he; 
The neer a word had Dickie to say, 
Sae he thrust the lance thro his f aulse 
bodie. loo 

26 Then on we held for Carlisle toun, 

And at Staneshaw-bauk the Eden we 
crossd; 
The water was great, and meikle of spait,^ 
But the nevir a horse nor man we lost. 

27 And when we reached the Staneshaw- 

bank, 
The wind was rising loud and hie; 
And there the laird garrd ^ leave our 

steeds, 
For fear that they should stamp and nie . 

28 And when we left the Staneshaw-bank, 

The wind began full loud to blaw ; no 
But 't was wind and weet, and fire and 
sleet, 
When we came beneath the castelwa. 

29 We crept on knees, and held our breath, 

Till we placed the ladders against the 
wa; 
And sae ready was Buccleueh himsell 
To mount the first before us a'. 

30 He has taen the watchman by the throat, 

He flung him down upon the lead: 
* Had there not been peace between our 
lands, 119 

Upon the other side thou hadst gaed. 

31 ' Now sound out, trumpets ! ' quo Buc- 

cleueh ; 

* Let's waken Lord Scroope right 

merrilie ! * 
Then loud the Warden's trumpets blew 

* O whae dare meddle wi me ? ' 

32 Then speedilie to wark we gaed, 

And raised the slogan ane and a', 
And cut a hole thro a sheet of lead, 
And so we wan to the castel-ha. 

83 They thought King James and a' his 

men lag 

Had won the house wi bow and speir: 
It was but twenty Scots and ten 
That put a thousand in sic a stear ! ^ 
i Rough. 2 in high flood. » caused us to. « stir* 



34 Wi coulters^ and wi forehammers, 

We garrd the bars bang merrilie, 
Untill we came to the inner prison. 
Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie. 

35 And when we cam to the lower prison, 

Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie, 

* O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, 

Upon the morn that thou 's to die ? ' 

36 * I sleep saft, and I wake aft, 141 

It's lang since sleeping was fleyd® 

frae me; 
Gie my service back to my wyfe and 

bairns. 
And a' gude fellows that speer "^ for 

me.' 

37 Then Red Rowan has hente ^ him up, 

The starkest men in Teviotdale : 

* Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, 

Till of my Lord Scroope I take fare- 
well. 

38 'Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord 

Scroope ! 

My gude Lord Scroope, farewell ! * he 
cried ; 150 

' I '11 pay you for my lodging-maill ^ 

When first we meet on the border- 
side.* 

39 Then shoulder high, with shout and 

cry. 
We bore him down the ladder lang ; 
At every stride Red Rowan made, 
I wot the Kinmont's airns^^ playd 

clang. 

40 * O mony a time,' quo Kinmont Wil- 

lie, 

* I have ridden horse baith wild and 

wood ; ^^ 
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan 
I ween my legs have neer bestrode. 

41 *And mony a time,' quo Kinmont 

Willie, 161 

* I 've pricked a horse out oure the 

furs; 12 
But since the day I backed a steed 
I nevir wore sic cumbrous spurs.' 

5 the blade before the share of a plough. 

6 frightened. ^ inquire. 8 taken. 
9 rent. lo irons. ii mad. 

la over the furrows. 



THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



321 



42 We scarce had won the Staneshaw- 

bank, 
When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, 
And a thousand men, in horse and foot, 
Cam wi the keen Lord Scroope along. 

43 Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water, 

Even where it flowd frae bank to 
brim, 170 

And he has plunged in wi a' his band, 

And safely swam them thro the 
stream. 

44 He turned him on the other side, 

And at Lord Scroope his glove flung 
he: 
* If ye like na my visit in merry Eng- 
land, 
In fair Scotland come visit me ! ' 

45 All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope, 

He stood as still as rock of stane; 
He scarcely dared to trew^ his eyes 
When thro the water they had gane. 

46 * He is either bimsell a devil frae hell, 181 

Or else his mother a witch maun 
be; 
I wad na have ridden that wan water 
For a' the govvd in Christentie.' 



THE BONNIE HOUSE O AIRLIE2 

1 It fell on a day, and a bonny summer 

day, 
When corn grew green and yellow, 
That there fell out a great dispute 
Between Argyll and Airly. 

2 Argyll has raisd an hundred men. 

An hundred men, and so many, 
And he is away by the back of Dun- 
keld, 
For to plunder the bonny house of 
Airly. 

3 Lady Margaret looks oer her bower- 

window, 
And O but she looks weary ! 10 

And there she spied the great Argyll, 
Coming to plunder the bonny house of 

Airly. 

1 trust. 

2 The Earl of Argyle sacked and burnt Airlie in 1640. 



4 ' Come down, come down, Lady Mar- 

gret,' he said, 
* Come down, and kiss me fairly : * 
* O I will not kiss the great Argyll, 
If he should not leave a standing 
stone in Airly.' 

5 He hath taken her by the left shoulder. 

Says, ' Lady, where lyes thy dowry ? ' 
* It 's up and it 's down by the bonny 
bank-side, 
Amongst the planting of Airly.' 20 

6 They have sought it up, they have 

sought it down. 
They have sought it both late and early, 
And they have found it in the bonny 

plumb-tree 
That shines on the bowling-green of 

Airly. 

7 He hath taken her by the middle so 

small, 
And O but she lookd weary ! 
He hath laid her down by the bonny 

burn-side, 
Till he hath plundered the bonny 

house of Airly. 

8 ' If my good lord were at home this night. 

As he is with Prince Charly, 30 

Nouther you nor no Scottish lord 

Durst have set a foot on the bowling- 
green of Airly. 

9 * Ten bonny sons I have born unto him, 

The eleventh ueer saw his daddy; 
Although I had an hundred more, 

I would give them all to Prince 
Charly.' 



THE BARON OF BRACKLEY » 

1 Inverey cam doun Deeside, whistlin 

and playin, 
He was at brave Braikley's yett ^ ere it 
was dawin.^ 

2 He rappit fu loudly an wi a great roar, 
Cried, * Cum doun, cum doun, Braikley, 

and open the door. 

s Various tragedies in the history of the Brackley 
family have supplied the material for this. 
* gate. 6 dawTiing. 



322 



BALLADS 



3 'Are ye sleepiii, Baronne, or are ye 

wakiii ? 
There 's sharpe swords at youryett, will 
gar your blood spin. 

4 * Open the yett, Braikley, and lat us 

within, 
Till we on the green turf gar your bluid 
rin.' 

5 Out spak the brave baronne, owre the 

castell-wa : 

• Are ye cum to spulyie ^ and plunder 

mi ha ? lo 

6 * But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum 

in: 
Gin ye drink o my wine, ye '11 nae gar ^ 
my bluid spin. 

7 *Gin ye be hir'd widifus,^ ye may gang 

by, 

Ye may gang to the lawlands and steal 
their fat ky.^ 

8 * Ther spulyie like rievers o wyld ket- 

trin clan,^ 
Who plunder unsparing baith houses 
and Ian. 

9 'Gin ye be gentlemen, licht an cum [in], 
Ther 's meat an drink i my ha for every 

man. 

10 ' Gin ye be hir'd widifus, ye may gang by, 
Gang doun to the lawlands, and steal 

horse and ky.' 20 

11 Up spak his ladie, at his bak where she 

i^y» 

* Get up, get up, Braikley, and be not 

afraid ; 
The'r but young hir'd widifus wi belted 
plaids.' 

12 * Cum kiss me, mi Peggy, I 'le nae lan- 

ger stay. 
For I will go out and meet Inverey. 

13 * But baud your tongue, Peggy, and mak 

nae sic din, 
For yon same hir'd widifus will prove 
themselves men.' 

1 spoil. 2 make. * gallows-birdB. * kine. 
& steal like thieves of the wild robber clans. 



14 She called on her marys,^ they cam to her 

hand; 
Cries, ' Bring me your rocks,"^ lassies, we 
will them command. 

15 * Get up, get up, Braikley, and turn bak 

your ky, 30 

Or me an mi women will them defy. 

16 ' Cum forth then, mi maidens, and show 

them some play; 
We '11 ficht them, and shortly the cow- 
ards will fly. 

17 'GinI had a husband, whereas I haenane, 
He woud nae ly i his bed and see his ky 

taen. 

18 * Ther 's f our-and-twenty milk-whit 

calves, twal ^ o them ky. 
In the woods o Glentanner, it 's ther 
thei a' ly. 

19 ' Ther 's goat i the Etnach, and sheep o 

the brae. 
Ana' will be plunderdby young Inverey.' 

20 ' Now baud your tongue, Peggy, and gie 

me a gun, 40 

Ye '11 see me gae f urth, but I '11 never 
cum in. 

21 ' Call mi brother William, mi unkl also. 
Mi cousin James Gordon; we '11 mount 

and we '11 go.' 

22 When Braikley was ready and stood i 

the closs. 
He was the bravest baronne that eer 
mounted horse. 

23 When all wer assembld o the castell 

green, 
No man like brave Braikley was ther to 
be seen. 



24 



Turn bak, brother William, ye are a 
bridegroom; 



25 ' Wi bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o 
the mill; 
O sichin ^ and sobbin she '11 soon get her 
fill.' 50 

6 maids. ' distaffs. & twelve. * sighing. 



BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL 323 


26 * I 'm no coward, brother, 't is kend I 'm 


38 * Yes, I cam by Braikley, and I gaed in 


a man; 


there, 


I '11 ficht i your quarral as lang 's I can 


And there [saw] his ladie braiding her 


stand. 


hair. 


27 ' I '11 ficht, my dear brother, wi heart 


39 * She was rantin, and dancin, and singin 


and gude will. 


for joy. 


And so will young Harry that lives at 


And vowin that nicht she woud feest 


the mill. 


Inverey. 


28 'But turn, mi dear brother, and nae 


40 * She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd 


langer stay: 


him in. 


What '11 cum your ladie, gin Braikley 


Was kind to the man that had slayn her 


thei slay ? 


baronne.' 80 


29 ' What '11 cum your ladie and bonnie 


41 Up spake the son on the nourice's knee, 
' Gin I live to be a man, revenged I '11 be.* 


young son ? 


what '11 cum them when Braikley is 




gone ? ' 58 


42 Ther 's dool i the kitchin, and mirth i 




the ha. 


30 ' I never will turn : do you think I will fly? 


The Baronne Braikley is dead and awa. 


But here I will ficht, and here I will die.' 




31 'Strik dogs,' crys Inverey, *and ficht 


BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL 


till ye 're slayn, 




For we are four hundered, ye are but 


1 Hie upon Hielands, 


four men. 


and laigh ^ upon Tay, 




Bonnie George Campbell 


32 'Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your 


rode out on a day. 


honour is gone. 




Your lands we will plunder, your castell 


2 He saddled, he bridled, 


we '11 burn.' 


and gallant rode he. 




And hame cam bis guid horse, 


33 At the head the Etnach the battel began. 


but never cam he. 


At Little Auchoilzie thei killd the first 




man. 


3 Out came his mother dear. 




greeting fu sair,^ i© 


34 First thei killd ane, and soon they killd 


And out cam his bonnie bryde. 


tvva, 


riving her hair. 


Thei killd gallant Braikley, the flour 




them a'. 


4 * The meadow lies green, 




the corn is unshorn. 


35 Thei killd William Gordon, and James 


But Bonnie George Campbell 


the Knox, 


will never return.' 


And brave Alexander, the flour Glen- 




muick. 70 


5 Saddled and bridled 




and booted rode he, 


36 What sichin and moaning was heard i 


A plume in his helmet, 


the glen. 


a sword at his knee. 20 


For the Baronne Braikley, who basely 




was slayn ! 


6 But toom ^ cam his saddle, 




all bloody to see. 


37 * Cam ye bi the castell, and was ye in 


Oh, hame cam his guid horse. 


there ? 


but never cam he ! 


Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair ? ' 


1 low. > "Weeping full Bore. » empty. 



324 



BALLADS 



BEWICK AND GRAHAM i 

1 Old Grahame [he] is to Carlisle gone, 

Where Sir Robert Bewick there met 
he; 
In arms to the wine they are gone, 
And drank till they were both merry. 

2 Old Grahame he took up the cup, 

And said, ' Brother Bewick, here 's to 
thee ; 
And here 's to our two sons at home, 
For they live best in our country.' 

3 * Nay, were thy son as good as mine, 

And of some books he could but 
read, lo 

With sword and buckler by his side. 
To see how he could save his head, 

4 * They might have been calld two bold 

brethren 

Where ever they did go or ride ; 
They might [have] been calld two bold 
brethren. 

They might have crackd the Border- 
side. 

5 ' Thy son is bad, and is but a lad. 

And bully ^ to my son cannot be ; 
For my son Bewick can both write and 
read. 
And sure I am that cannot he.* 20 

6 * I put him to school, but he would not 

learn, 
I bought him books, but he would not 

read; 
But my blessing he 's never have 
Till I see how his hand can save his 

head.' 

7 Old Grahame called for an account. 

And he askd what was for to pay; 
There he paid a crown, so it went round, 
Which was all for good wine and hay. 

8 Old Grahame is into the stable gone, 

Where stood thirty good steeds and 
three ; 30 

He 's taken his own steed by the head. 
And home rode he right wantonly. 
1 In spite of incongruous touches in the spirit of the 
eighteenth century — the date of the oldest copy — 
this is a proper ballad. 
3 brother-in-arras. 



9 When he came home, there did be espy, 
A loving sight to spy or see. 
There did he espy his own three sons. 
Young Christy Grahame, the fore- 
most was he. 

10 There did he espy his own three sons. 

Young Christy Grahame, the fore- 
most vas he: 
* Where have you been all day, father. 

That no counsel you would take by 
me ? ' 40 

11 ' Nay, I have been in Carlisle town. 

Where Sir Robert Bewick there met 

me; 
He said thou was bad, and calld thee a 

lad. 
And a baffled man by thou I be. 

12 * He said thou was bad, and calld thee 

lad. 
And bully to his son cannot be; 
For his son Bewick can both write and 

read, 
And sure I am that cannot thee. 

13 ' 1 put thee to school, but thou would 

not learn, 
I bought thee books, but thou would 

not read; 50 

But my blessing thou 's never have 
Till I see with Bewick thou can save 

thy head.' 

14 * Oh, pray forbear, my father dear; 

That ever such a thing should be ! 
Shall I venture my body in field to fight 
With a man that 's faith and troth to 
me?' 

15 * What 's that thou sayst, thou limmer ^ 

loon ? 
Or how dare thou stand to speak to 

me? 
If thou do not end this quarrel soon. 
Here is my glove thou shalt fight me.' 

16 Christy stoopd low unto the ground, 61 

Unto the ground, as you 11 under- 
stand: 
' O father, put on your glove again. 
The wind hath blown it from your 
hand.' 

8 rascally. 



r 



BEWICK AND GRAHAM 



325 



17 ' What 's that thou sayst, thou limmer 

loon ? 
Or how dare thou stand to speak to 
me? 
If thou do not end this quarrel soon, 
Here is my hand thou shalt fight me.' 

18 Christy Grahame is to his chamber gone, 

And for to study, as well might be, 70 
Whether to fight with his father dear, 
Or with his bully Bewick he. 

19 * If it be [my] fortune my bully to kill, 

As you shall boldly understand. 
In every town that I ride through. 
They '11 say, There rides a brother- 
less man ! 

20 * IN'ay, for to kill my bully dear, 

I think it will be a deadly sin; 
And for to kill my father dear, 

The blessing of heaven I ueer shall 
win. 80 

21 *0 give me your blessing, father,' he said, 

' And pray well for me for to thrive; 
If it be my fortune my bully to kill, 
I swear I '11 neer come home alive.' 

22 He put on his back a good plate-jack. 

And on his head a cap of steel, 
With sword and buckler by his side; 

gin ^ he did not become them well ! 

23 * O fare thee well, my father dear ! 

And fare thee well, thou Carlisle 
town ! 90 

If it be my fortune my bully to kill, 

1 swear I '11 neer eat bread again.' 

24 Now we '11 leave talking of Christy 

Grahame, 
And talk of him again belive;^ 
But we will talk of bonny Bewick, 
Where he was teaching his scholars 

five. 

25 Now when he had learned them well to 

fence, 
To handle their swords without any 
doubt, 
He 's taken his own sword under his 
arm, 99 

And walkd his father's close about. 
1 if . * soon. 



26 He lookd between him and the sun. 

To see what farleys ^ he could see ; 
There he spy'd a man with armour on, 
As he came riding over the lee. 

27 * I wonder much what man yon be 

That so boldly this way does come; 
I think it is my nighest friend, 

I think it is my bully Grahame. 108 

28 * O welcome, O welcome, bully Grahame ! 

O man, thou art my dear, welcome ! 

man, thou art my dear, welcome ! 
For I love thee best in Christendom.' 

29 ' Away, away, O bully Bewick, 

And of thy bully ship let me be ! 
The day is come I never thought on; 
Bully, I 'm come here to fight with 
thee.' 

30 ' O no ! not so, O bully Grahame ! 

That eer such a word should spoken 
be! 

1 was thy master, thou was my scholar: 
So well as I have learned thee.' 120 

31 ' My father he was in Carlisle town, 

\N'here thy father Bewick there met he ; 
He said I was bad, and he calld me a lad. 
And a baffled man by thou I be.' 

32 * Away, away, O bully Grahame, 

And of all that talk, man, let ns be! 
We '11 take three men of either side 
To see if we can our fathers agree.' 

33 * Away, away, O bully Bewick, 

And of thy bullyship let me be ! 130 
But if thou be a man, as I trow thou art. 
Come overt his ditch and fight with 
me.' 

34 * O no ! not so, my bully Grahame ! 

That eer such a word should spoken be ! 
Shall I venture my body in field to fight 
With a man that 's faith and troth to 
me?' 

35 * Away, away, O bully Bewick, 

And of all that care, man, let us be ! 
If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, 
Come over this ditch and fight with 
me. 140 

I strange sights. 



326 



BALLADS 



36 'Now, if it be my fortune thee, Gra- 

hame, to kill, 
As God's will 's, man, it all must be; 
But if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, 

to kill, 
'T is home again I '11 never gae.' 

37 * Thou art of my mind then, bully Be- 

wick, 
And sworn-brethren will we be ; 
If thou be a man, as I trow thou art. 
Come over this ditch and fight with 

me.' 

38 He flang his cloak from [off] his shoul- 

ders. 
His psalm-book out of his hand flang 

he, ISO 

He clapd his hand upon the hedge, 
And oer lap he right wantonly. 

39 When Grahame did see his bully come. 

The salt tear stood long in his eye: 
* Now needs must I say that thou art a 
man. 
That dare venture thy body to fight 
vrith me. 

40 * Now I have a harness on my back; 

I know that thou hath none on thine; 
But as little as thou hath on thy back. 
Sure as little shall there be on mine.' 

41 He flang his jack from off his back, 161 

His steel cap from his head flang 
he; 
He 's taken his sword into his hand. 
He 's tyed his horse unto a tree. 

42 Now they fell to it with two broa[d 

swords]. 
For two long hours fought Bewick 
[and he] ; 
Much sweat was to be seen on them 
both. 
But never a drop of blood to see. 

43 Now Grahame gave Bewick an ackward^ 

stroke, 169 

An ackward stroke surely struck he; 

He struck him now under the left 

breast. 

Then down to the ground as dead fell 

he. 

1 awkward, backhand. 



44 ' Arise, arise, O bully Bewick, 

Arise, and speak three words to me ! 
Whether this be thy deadly wound. 
Or God and good surgeons will mend 
thee.' 

45 ' O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, 

And pray do get thee far from me ! 
Thy sword is sharp, it hath wounded 
my heart. 
And so no further can I gae. 180 

46 * O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, 

And get thee far from me with speed! 
And get thee out of this country quite ! 
That none may know who 's done the 
deed.' 

47 * O if this be true, my bully dear, 

The words that thou dost tell to me. 
The vow I made, and the vow I'll 
keep; 
I swear I '11 be the first that die.' 

48 Then he stuck his sword in a moody- 

hill,2 
Where he lap thirty good foot and 
three ; 190 

First he bequeathed his soul to God, 
And upon his own sword-point lap he. 

49 Now Grahame he was the first that died, 

And then came Robin Bewick to see; 
* Arise, arise, O son 1 ' he said, 

' For I see thou 's won the victory. 

50 * Arise, arise, O son ! ' he said, 

' For I see thou 's won the victory : * 
[Father, co] uld ye not drunk your wine 
at home, 199 

[And le]tten me and my brother be? 

51 ' Nay, dig a grave both low and wide, 

And in it us two pray bury; 
But bury my bully Grahame on the 
sunside. 
For I 'm sure he won the victory.' 

52 Now we '11 leave talking of these two 

brethren. 
In Carlisle town where they lie slain, 
And talk of these two good old men, 
Where they were making a pitiful 

moan. 

2 mole-hilL 



THE DOWY HOUMS O YARROW 



327 



53 With that bespoke now Robin Bewick: 

' O man was I not much to blame? 

I have lost one of the liveliest lads 211 

That ever was bred unto my name.' 

54 With that bespoke my good lord Gra- 

hame: 
' O man, I have lost the better block; 
I have lost ray comfort and my joy, 
I have lost my key, I have lost my 

lock. 

55 * Had I gone through all Ladderdale, 

And forty horse had set on me, 
Had Christy Grahame been at my back. 
So well as he woud guarded me.' 220 

56 I have no more of my song to sing. 

But two or three words to you I '11 

name; 
But 't will be talk'd in Carlisle town 
That these two [old] men were all 

the blame. 



THE DOWY HOUMS O YARROWi 

1 Late at een, drinkin the wine, 

Or early in a mornin, 
The set a combat them between, 
To fight it in the dawniii. 

2 ' O stay at harae, my noble lord ! 

O stay at hame, my marrow ! - 
My cruel brother will you betray. 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.' 

3 * O fare ye weel, my lady gave ! 

fare ye weel, my Sarah ! 10 
For I maun gae, tho I neer return 

Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow.* 

4 She kissed his cheek, she kaimd his 

hair, 
As she had done before, O; 
She belted on his noble brand, 
An he 's awa to Yarrow. 

6 O he 's gane up yon high, high hill — 

1 wat he gaed wi sorrow — 
And in a den spied nine armd men, 

I the dowy houms o Yarrow. 20 



1 The doleful banks of Yarrow. 
of Yarrow. 

2 Bweetheart, 



Also called The Braes 



6 * ir ^ ye come to drink the wine, 

As ye hae doon before, O? 
Or ir ye com to wield the brand, 
On the bonny banks o Yarrow?* 

7 ' I im no come to driuk the wine, 

As I hae don before, O, 
But I im come to wield the brand, 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.' 

8 Four he hurt, an five he slew, 

On the dowy houms o Yarrow, 30 
Till that stubborn knight came him be- 
hind, 
An ran his body thorrow. 

9 *Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother 

John, 
An tell your sister Sarah 
To come an lift her noble lord, 
Who 's sleepin sound on Yarrow.' 

10 'Yestreen I dreamd a dolefu dream; 

I kend'^ there wad be sorrow; 
I dreamd I pu'd the heather green. 
On the dowy banks o Yarrow.' 40 

11 She gaed up yon high, high hill — 

I wat she gaed wi sorrow — 
An in a den spy'd nine dead men, 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow. 

12 She kissed his cheek, she kaimed his 

hair, 
As oft she did before, O; 
She drank the red blood frae him ran, 
On the dowy houms o Yarrow. 

13 ' hand your tongue, my douchter 

dear. 
For what needs a' this sorrow ? 50 
I '11 wed you on a better lord 
Than him you lost on Yarrow.' 

14 * hand your tongue, my father dear, 

And dinna grieve your Sarah; 
A better lord was never born 
Than him I lost on Yarrow. 

15 'Tak harae your ousen,^ take hame 

your kye,"^ 
For they hae bred our sorrow; 
I wiss ® that they had a' gane mad 
Whan they cam first to Yarrow.' 60 
6 oxen. 1 kine. s wish. 



328 



BALLADS 



THE D^MON LOVERi 

1 * O WHERE have you been, my long, long 

love, 
This long seven years and mair ? ' 
*0 I 'm come to seek my former vows 
Ye granted me before.' 

2 *0 hold your tongue of your former 

vows. 
For they will breed sad strife ; 

hold your tongue of your former 

vows, 
For I am become a wife.' 

3 He turned him right and round about, 

And the tear blinded bis ee: lo 

' I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, 
If it had not been for thee. 

4 ' I might hae had a king's daughter, 

Far, far beyond the sea; 

1 might have had a king's daughter, 
Had it not been for love o thee.' 

6 * If ye might have had a king's daughter, 
Yer sel ye had to blame; 
Ye might have taken the king's daughter. 
For ye kend that I was nane. 20 

6 * If I was to leave my husband dear, 

And my two babes also, 
O what have you to take me to, 
If with you 1 should go ? ' 

7 *I hae seven ships upon the sea — 

The eighth brought me to land — 
With four-and-twenty bold mariners, 
And music on every hand.' 

8 She has taken up her two little babes, 

Kissd them baith cheek and chin: 30 
* O fair ye weel, my ain two babes. 
For I '11 never see you again.' 

9 She set her foot upon the ship, 

No mariners could she behold; 
But the sails were o the taffetie, 
And the masts o the beaten gold. 

10 She had not sailed a league, a league, 
A league but barely three, 
When dismal grew his countenance, 

And drumlie ^ grew his ee. 40 

1 Often called James Harris. 2 gloomy. 



11 They had not saild a league, a league, 

A league but barely three, 
Until she espied his cloven foot. 
And she wept right bitterlie. 

12 * O hold your tongue of your weeping,* 

says he, 
' Of your weeping now let me be; 
I will shew you how the lilies grow 
On the banks of Italy.' 

13 * O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, 

That the sun shines sweetly on ? ' 50 
' O yon are the hills of heaven,' he said, 

* VVhere you will never win.' ^ 

14 * O whaten a mountain is yon,' she said, 

* All so dreary wi frost and snow ? ' 

* O yon is the mountain of hell,' he cried, 
' Where you and I will go.' 

15 He strack the tap-mast wi his hand. 

The fore-mast wi his knee, 
And he brake that gallant ship in twain. 
And sank her in the sea. 60 



OUR GOODMAN 

1 Hame came our goodman. 

And hame came he. 
And then he saw a saddle-horse, 
Where nae horse should be. 

2 * What 's this now, goodwife ? 

What's this I see? 
How came this horse here. 
Without the leave o me ? ' 

Recitative. * A horse ? ' quo she. 
'Ay, a horse,' quo he. 

3 * Shame fa your cuckold face, 

111 mat ^ ye see ! 
*T is naething, but a broad sow, 
My minnie ^ sent to me.' 

* A broad sow ? ' quo he. 

* Ay, a sow,' quo shee. 

4 * Far hae I ridden. 

And farer hae I gane, 
But a sadle on a sow's back 

I never saw nane.' 
8 come. * mot, i.e., may. 5 mother. 



OUR 


GOODMAN 329 


6 Hame came our goodman, 






There he spy'd a powderd wig, 


And hame came he; 






Where nae wig shoud be. 


He spy'd a pair of jack-boots, 








Where nae boots should be. 




14 


* What 's this now, goodwife ? 
What 's this I see ? 


6 * What 's this now, goodwife ? 






How came this wig here, 


What's this I see? 






Without the leave me?' 


How came these boots here, 








Without the leave o me ? ' 






* A wig ? ' quo she. 

* Ay, a wig,' quo he. 70 


* Boots ? ' quo she. 








' Ay, boots,' quo he. 


30 


15 


' Shame fa your cuckold face, 
And ill mat you see ! 


7 ' Shame fa your cuckold face, 






'T is uaething but a clocken-lien,^ 


And ill mat ye see ! 






My minnie sent to me.' 


It 's but a pair of water-stoups,! 








My minnie sent to me.' 






' Clocken hen ? ' quo he. 
* Ay, clocken hen,' quo she. 


* Water-stoups ? ' quo he. 








* Ay, water-stoups,' quo she. 




16 


* Far hae I ridden, 

And farer hae I gane. 


8 'Far hae I ridden. 






But powder on a clocken-hen 


And farer hae I gane. 






I saw never nane.' go 


But siller spurs on water-stoups 








I saw never nane.' 


40 


17 Hame came our goodman, 








And hame came he, 


9 Hame came our goodman, 






And there he saw a muekle coat, 


And hame came he. 






Where nae coat shoud be. 


And he saw a sword, 








Whare a sword should na be. 




18 


' What 's this now, goodwife ? 
What's this I see? 


10 * What 's this now, goodwife ? 






How came this coat here, 


What 's this I see ? 






Without the leave me ? ' 


How came this sword here. 








Without the leave o me ? * 






' A coat ? ' quo she. 

* Ay, a coat,' quo he. 90 


* A sword ? ' quo she. 








« Ay, a sword,' quo he. 


so 


19 


'Shame fa your cuckold face, 
111 mat ye see ! 


11 * Shame fa your cuckold face, 






It 's but a pair blankets. 


111 mat ye see ! 






My minnie sent to me.' 


It 's but a porridge-spurtle,^ 








My minnie sent to me.' 






'Blankets?' quo he. 
* Ay, blankets,' quo she. 


* A spurtle ? ' quo he. 








* Ay, a spurtle,' quo she. 




20 


' Far hae I ridden. 
And farer hae I gane. 


12 < Far hae I ridden. 






But buttons upon blankets 


And farer hae I gane. 






I saw never nane.' 100 


But siller-handed spurtles 








I saw never nane.' 


60 


21 Ben ^ went our goodman, 








And ben went he. 


13 Hame came our goodman, 






And there he spy'd a sturdy man. 


And hame came he; 






Where nae man shoud be. 


I water-pitchers. » porridge stirrer. 






» sitting hen. * Into the inner room. 



330 



BALLADS 



22 * What 's this now, good wife ? 


But neer a word wad ane them speak, 


What 's this I see ? 


For barring of the door. 


How came this man here, 




Without the leave o me ? * 


7 And first they ate the white puddings. 




And then they ate the black; 


< A man ? ' quo she. 


Tho muckle thought the goodwife to 


* Ay, a man,' quo he. no 


hersel, 




Yet neer a word she spake. 


23 * Poor blind body, 




And blinder mat ye be ! 


8 Then said the one unto the other. 


It 's a new milking-maid, 


< Here, man, tak ye my knife ; 30 


My mither sent to me.' 


Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard. 




And I '11 kiss the goodwife.' 


« A maid ? ' quo he. 




< Ay, a maid,' quo she. 


9 * But there 's nae water in the house, 




And what shall we do than ? ' 


24 * Far hae I ridden, 


What ails thee at the puddiug-broo,^ 


And farer hae I gane. 


That boils into the pan ? ' 


But lang-bearded maidens 




I saw never naue.' 120 


10 up then started our goodman, 




An angry man was he: 




* Will ye kiss my wife before my een. 


GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR 


And scad ^ me wi pudding-bree ? ' 40 


1 It fell about the Martinmas time, 


11 Then up and started our goodwife. 


And a gay time it was then, 


Gied three skips on the floor: 


When our good wife got puddings ^ to 


'Goodman, you've spoken the foremost 


make, 


word, 


And she 's boild them in the pan. 


Get up and bar the door.' 


2 The wind sae eauld blew south and north, 




And blew into the floor; 


THE WIFE WRAPT IN 


Quoth our goodman to our good wife, 


WETHER'S SKIN 


' Gae out and bar the door.' 






1 She wadna bake, she wadna brew, 


3 ' My hand is in my hussyf skap,^ 


Hollin,^ green hollin, 


Goodman, as ye may see; 10 


For spoiling her comely hue. 


An it shoud nae be barrd this hundred 


Bend your bow, Robin. 


year, 




It 's no be barrd for me. 


2 She wadna wash, she wadna wring, 




For spoiling her gay goud ring. 


4 They made a paction tween them twa, 




They made it firm and sure. 


3 Robin he 's gane to the fald 


That the first word whaeer shoud speak, 


And catched a weather by the spauld.^ 


Should rise and bar the door. 






4 And he has killed his weather black 


5 Then by there came two gentlemen. 


And laid the skin upon her back 10 


At twelve o'clock at night, 




And they could neither see house nor 


5 * I darena pay '^ you, for your kin, 


hall, 


But I can pay my weather's skin. 


Nor coal nor candle-light. 20 






6 ' I darena pay my lady's back. 


6 * Now whether is this a rich man's house, 


But I can pay my weather black.' 


Or whether is it a poor ? ' 


3 brew, juice. * scald. f> holly. 


1 sausages. * housewifery. 


6 shoulder. ' beat. 



THE BITTER WITHY 



33^ 



7 * O Robin, Robin, lat me be, 
And I '11 a good wife be to thee. 

8 * It's I will wash, and I will wring, 
And never mind my gay goud ring. 

9 * It's I will bake, and I will brew, 
And never mind my comely hue. 20 

10 ' And gin ye thinkna that eneugh, 

I'se tak the goad and I 'se ca^ the 
pleugh. 

11 * Gin ye ca for mair whan that is doon, 
I '11 sit i the neuk ^ and I '11 dight ^ your 

shoon.* 



THE BITTER WITHY ^ 

1 As it fell out on a Holy day, 

The drops of rain did fall, did fall, 
Our Saviour asked leave of His mother 
Mary 
If He might go play at ball. 

2 ' To play at ball, my own dear Son, 

It 's time you was going or gone. 
But be sure let me hear no complaint of 
You 
At night when You do come home.' 

3 It was upling scorn and downling scorn, 

Oh, there He met three jolly jerdins : ^ 
Oh, there He asked the three jolly jer- 
dins II 
If they would go play at ball. 

1 call, drive. 2 nook, corner. 3 clean. 

* The Bitter Withy, probably a genuine popular ballad, 
was first recorded in ISGS, and printed by Mr. Frank 
Sidgwick in Notes and Queries, Series 10. rv, 84/., July, 
1905. See Pub. Mod. Lang. Ass. Am., vol. 23, p. 141, for 
a discussion of it by G. H. Gerould. It is representative 
of many mediieval tales of the Saviour's childhood. 

B An inexplicable word. 



4 ' Oh, we are lords' and ladies' sons. 

Born in bower or in hall. 
And You are but some poor maid's 
child 
Born'd in an ox's stall.' 

5 *If you are lords' and ladies' sons, 

Born'd in bower or in hall. 
Then at the very last I '11 make it ap- 
pear 
That I am above you all.' 20 

6 Our Saviour built a bridge with the 

beams of the sun. 
And over He gone, He gone He, 
And after followed the three jolly jer- 
dins. 
And drownded they were all three. 

7 It was upling scorn and downling 

scorn. 
The mothers of them did whoop and 

call. 
Crying out, * Mary mild, call home your 

Child, 
For ours are drownded all.' 

8 Mary mild, Mary mild, called home her 

Child, 
And laid our Saviour across her 

knee, 30 

And with a whole handful of bitter 

withy * 
She gave Him slashes three. 

9 Then He says to His Mother, * Oh ! the 

withy, oh ! the withy. 
The bitter wdthy that causes me to 
smart, to smart, 
Oh ! the withy it shall be the very first 
tree 
That perishes at the heart.' 
6 willow twig. 



JOHN BARBOUR 
THE BRUCE 



INTRODUCTION 

(h 1-36) 

Storyss to rede ar delitabill, 

Supposs that thai be nocht bot fabill; 

Thau suld storyss that suthfast wer, 

And ^ thai war said on gud maner, 

Hawe doubill plesance in heryng. 

The fyrst plesance is the carping,^ 

And the tothir the suthfastnes, 

That schawys the thing rycht as it wes; 

And suth thyngis that ar likand ^ 

Tyll ^ mannys heryng, ar plesand. 10 

Tharfor I wald fayne set my will, 

Giff my wyt mycht suffice thartill,^ 

To put in wryt ^ a suthfast story, 

That it lest ay furth in memory, 

Swa that na lenth of tyme it let,' 

Na ger ^ it haly ^ be forget. 

For aulde storys that men redys, 

Representis to thaim the dedys 

Of stalwart folk that lywyt ar,!*^ 

Rycht as thai than in presence war. 20 

And, certis, thai suld weill hawe pryss, 

That in thar tyme war wycht ^^ and wyss, 

And led thar lyff in gret trawaill,!^ 

And oft in bard stour ^^ off bataill 

Wan richt gret price off chewalry, 

And war woydyt ^^ off cowardy; 

As wes king Robert off Scotland, 

That hardy wes off hart and hand; 

And gud Schyr lames off Douglas, 

That in his tyme sa worthy was, 30 

That off hys price and hys bounte 

In fer landis renownyt wes he. 

Off thaim I thynk this bnk to ma; ^^ 

Now God gyff grace that I may swa 

Tret it, and bryng it till endyng. 

That I say nocht bot suthfast thing! 

1 If. 2 narrative. 3 pleasing. ^ To. ^ thereto. 

6 writing. ^ hinder, destroy. s make. » wholly. 

10 lived before. n powerful. 12 labor. is shock. 
14 cleared. is make. 



HOW SCOTLAND LEARNED TO 
LOVE LIBERTY 

(1, 179-246) 

QuHEN ^^ schir Edward, the mychty king, 

Had on this wyss ^^ done his likyng ^^ 

Off Ihone the Balleoll, that swa sone 

Was all def awtyt ^^ and undone. 

To Scotland went he than in hy, 

And all the land gan occupy: 

So hale,2o that bath castell and toune 

War in-till ^^ his possessioune, 

Fra Weik anent Orknay 

To Mullyr-snwk in Gallaway: 10 

And stuffyt all with Ingliss men. 

Schyrreffys and bailyheys maid he then; 

And alkyn 22 othir officeris, 

That for to gowern land afferis,^^ 

He maid off Inglis nation; 

That worthyt 24 than sa ryth f ellone,25 

And sa wykkyt and cowatouss, 

And swa hawtane ^^ and dispitouss, 

That Scottis men mycht do na thing 

That evir mycht pleyss to thar liking.^^ 20 

Thar wyffis wald thai oft forly,28 

And thar dochtrys dispitusl}^; 

And gyff-^ oiiy thar-at war wrath, 

Thai watyt ^^ hym wele with gret scaith, 

For thai suld fynd soue enchesone ^^ 

To put hym to destructione. 

And gyff that ony man thaim by 

Had ony thing that wes worthy, 

As horss, or huud, or othir thing. 

That plesand war to thar liking, 30 

With rycht or wraug it have wald thai. 

And gyf ony wald thaim withsay, 

Thai suld swa do, that thai suld tyne ^^ 

Othir land or lyff, or leyff ^^ in pyne. 

16 In middle Scots quh= wh. " wise, fashion. 

18 pleasure. i^ defaulted. so wholly. 21 into, in. 
22 all kinds of. 23 belong. 24 became. 25 very 
cruel. 26 haughty. 27 pleasure. 28 outrage. 29 if, 
so lay in wait for. 3i reason. 32 lose. ^3 live. 



HOW THE KING READ FER UMBRAS 



333 



For thai dempt ^ thaim eftir thar will, 
Takand ^ na kep^ to rycht na skill.^ 
A ! quhat thai dempt thaim felouly ! ^ 
For gud knychtis that war worthy, 
For litill enchesoune or than nane, 
Thai hangyt be the nekke bane. 40 

Alas ! that folk, that evir wes fre. 
And in fredome wount for to be, 
Throw thar gret myschance and foly, 
War tretyt than sa wykkytly, 
That thar fays^ thar iugis was; 
Quhat wrechitnes may man have mar ? 
A! fredome is a noble thing! 
Fredome mayss ' man to haiff liking; 
j Fredome all solace to man giffis: 
i He levys at ess that frely levys ! 50 

A noble hart may haiff nane ess, 
Na ellys nocht that may him pless, 
Gyff fredome failyhe;^ for fre liking 
Is yharnyt ^ our '^^ all othir thing. 
Na 11 he, that ay bass levyt fre, 
ii May nocht knaw weill the propyrte, 
The angyr, na the wrechyt dome, 
That is cowplyt to foule thyrldome. 
Bot gyff he had assayit it, 
Than all perquer ^^ he suld it wyt ; ^^ 60 
And suld think fredome mar to pryss 
Than all the gold in warld that is. 
Thus contrar thingis evir-mar 
Discoweryngis off the tothir ar. 
And he that thryll 1^ is has nocht his, 
All that he bass enbandownyt ^^ is 
Till hys lord, quhat euir he be. 



HOW THE KING READ 

FERUMBRAS 

(III, 405-67) 

The king, eftir that he was gane, 
To Lowchlomoiid the way has tane,^® 
And come thar on the thrid day. 
Bot thar-about na bait i' f and thai. 
That mycht thaim our the watir ber: 
Than war thai wa 1® on gret maner : 
For it wes fer about to ga; 
And thai war in-to dout alsua. 
To meyt thar fayis ^^ that spred war wyd. 
Tharfor, endlang the louchhis ^^ syd, i< 

Sa besyly thai socht, and fast, 
Tyll lamys of Dowglas, at the last, 



1 judged. 2 taking. ' heed. < nor reason. 5 How 
wickedly tliey condemned them! 6 foes. ' makes. 
8 fail. » yearned for. 10 over. n nor. 12 by 
heart. i3 know, i* thrall, is subjected, is taken. 
17 boat. 18 woeful. i» foes. 20 lake's. 



Fand a litill soukyn bate,^^ 

And to the land it drew, fut-hate.22 

Bot it sa litill wes, that it 

Mycht our the wattir bot thresum ^3 flyt.^^ 

Thai send thar-off word to the king. 

That wes ioyfuU off that fyuding; 

And fyrst in-to the bate is gane. 

With him Dowglas ; the thrid wes ane 20 

That rowyt thaim our deliverly,25 

And set thaim on the land all dry: 

And rowyt sa of-syss -^ to and fra, 

Fechand "^"^ ay our ^^ twa and twa, 

That, in a nycht and in a day, 

Cummyn owt-our^s the louch ar thai. 

For sum off thaim couth swome ^° full weill. 

And on his bak ber a fardele.^^ 

Swa with swymmyng, and with rowyng, 

Thai brocht thaim our, and all thar thing. 

The king, the quhilis,^^ meryly 31 

Red to thaim, that war him by, 

Romanys off worthi Ferambrace, 

That worthily our-cummyn ^^ was 

Throw the rycht douchty Olywer; 

And how the duk-peris ^^ wer 

Assegyt ^ in-till Egrymor, 

Qnhar king Lawyne lay thaim befor, 

With may "^ thowsandis then I can say. 

And bot eleven within war thai, 40 

And a woman: and war sa stad, 

That thai na mete thar-within had, 

Bot as thai fra thar fayis ^' wan. 

Yheyte ^'^ sua contenyt thai thaim than, 

That thai the tour held manlily, 

Till that Rychard off Normandy, 

Magre ^^ his fayis, warnyt the king, 

That wes ioyfull off this tithing; ^'^ 

For he wend ^^ thai had all bene slayne. 

Tharfor he turnyt in hy ^"^ agayne, 50 

And wan Mantrybill and passit Flagot; 

And syne Lawyne and all his flot ^^ 

Dispitusly discumfyt he: 

And deliveryt his men all fre, 

And wan the naylis, and the sper. 

And the croune, that lesu couth 4* ber; 

And off the croice a gret party ^^ 

He wan throw his chewalry. 

The gud king, apon this maner, 

Comfortyt thaim that war him ner; 60 

And maid thaim gamyn *® and solace. 

Till that his folk all passyt was. 

21 boat. 22 hot-foot, hastily. 23 three at a time. 
24 transport. 25 quickly. 28 oft-times. 2? Fetching. 
23 over. 29 across. 30 swim, si burden. 32 mean- 
while. 33 overcome. 34 (^o^ze pa i'rj, the Twelve 
Peers of France. 35 Besieged. 36 more. 3? foes. 
38 yet. 39 In spite of. ^o tidings. <i weened. 
*2 haste. 43 fleet. " did. ** piece. 49 mirth 



334 



JOHN BARBOUR 



m 



THE BATTLE OF BANNOCK- 
BURN 

(xii, 407-588) 

The Scottis men, quhen it wes day, 

Thair mess devotly herd thai say, 

Syne tuk a sop, and maid thame yar.^ 

And quhen, thai all assemblit war, 

And in thair battalis ^ all purvait, 

With thair braid baneris all displayit, 

Thai maid knychtis, as it efiPeris ^ 

To men that oysis "^ thai mysteris. 

The kyng maid Walter Stewart knycht, 

And lames of Douglass, that wes wicht,^ 10 

And othir als of gret bounte 

He maid, ilkane ^ in thair degre. 

Quhen this wes done, that I you say, 

Thai w^ent all furth in gud aray, 

And tuk the playne full apertly,"^ 

Mony wicht man, gud and hardy, 

That wer fulfiUit of gret bounte. 

In-till ^ thair rowtis ^ men mycht se 

The Ynglis men, in othir party, 

That richt as angelis schane brichtly, 20 

War nocht aray it on sic maner; 

For all thair battalis sammyn 1° wer 

In a schiltrum ; ^'^ hot quhetbir it wes 

Throu the gret stratnes i- of the plass, 

That thai war rad i^ till byd 1^ fichting, 

Or that it wes for abaysing,^^ 

I wat 1^ nocht; bot in a schiltrum 

It semyt thai war, all and some, 

Outane i' the vaward anerly, 

That with ane richt gret cimipany 30 

Be thame-selvin arayit war, 

And till the battale maid thame yar. 

That folk our-tuk i^ ane mekill i^ f eld 

On breid, quhar mony a schynand scheld, 

And mony a burnyst bricht armour, 

And mony man of gret valour, 

And mony a baner, bricht and scheyne, 

Micht in that gret schiltrum be seyne. 

And quhen the kyng of Yngland 

Saw Scottis men sa tak on hand 40 

To tak the hard feild so planly, 

And apon fut, he had ferly,^'* 

And said, 'Quhat? will yon Scottis ficht ? ' 

* Yaa, sekirly, schir,' than said a knycht, 

Schir Ingerame Vmphrevell hat 21 he, 

And said, ' Forsuth, schir, now I se 



1 ready. 
6 stout. 6 each one 



2 battalions. ' belongs. * use. 

openly. s in. » bands. 

12 narrowness. 13 afraid. 



10 together, n squadron. 12 narrowness. i3 afraid. 
14 bide. 15 dismay. 16 know. " Except. 18 covered. 
i» large. ^° woiader. 21 was called. 



All the mast ferlifuU '-- sycht 

That evir I saw, quhen for to ficht 

The Scottis men has tane on hand 

Agane ^-^ the gret mycht of Yngland, 50 

In plane hard feild to gif battale. 

Bot and yhe ^^ will trow my consale, 

Yhe sail discomfit thame lichtly. 

Yhe sal vithdraw hyne '^^ suddanly. 

With battalis, baneris, and pennownys, 

Quhill that we pass our palyeownys;^ 

And ye sail se als soyne at -" thai, 

Magre thair lordis, sail brek aray. 

And scale ^^ thame, our harness to ta.^^ 

And quhen we se thame scalit swa, 60 

Prik we than on thame hardely. 

And we sail haf thame weill lichtly. 

For than sail nane be knyt ^ to ficht. 

That may withstand our mekill mycht.' 

' I will nocht,' said the king, ' perfay,^^ 

Do sa; for ther sail no man say 

That I suld eschewe the battale, 

Na withdraw me for sic rangale.' ^ 

Quhen this wes said that er ^3 said I, 

The Scottis men full devotly 70 

Knelyt all doune, till God to pray. 

And a schort prayer thair maid thai 

Till God, till help thame in that ficht. 

And quhen the Yngliss king has sicht 

Of thame kneland, he said in hy — ^^ 

'Yon folk knelis till ask mercy.' 

Schir Yngerame said, 'Ye say suth now; 

Thai ask mercy, bot nocht at yow. 

For thair trespass to God thai cry. 

I tell yow a thing sekirly, 80 

That }on men will wyn all or de. 

For doubt of ded ^^ thar sail nane fle.* 

' Now be it swa,' than said the kyng, 

' We sail it se but ^ delaying.' 

He gert ^" trump up to the assemble; 

On athir^^ syd than men mycht se 

Full mony wicht men and worthy. 

All ready till do chevelry. 

Thus war thai bonne ^^ on athir syde; 
And Yngliss men, with mekill prid, 90 

That war in-till thar awaward,^ 
Till the battall that schir Eduard 
Gouernyt and led, held straucht thair way. 
The horss with spuris hardnyt^^ thai. 
And prikit apon thame sturdely; 
And thai met thame richt hardely, 

22 wonderful. 23 Against. 2* if you. 25 hence. 
26 pavilions. 27 as soon that. 2s scatter. 29 take. 
so joined together. 3i jn faith. 32 rabble. 33 before. 
8< haste. 35 fear of death. 36 without. 37 caused. 
38 either. 3» ready. «> vanguard. *i emboldened. 



THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN 



335 



Swa that, at the assemble thair, 

Sic a frusching ^ of speris wair 

That fer away men mycht it her. 

At thar metyng, for-outen wer,^ loo 

Wer stedis stekit^ mony ane, 

Mony gud man borne doune and slane, 

And mony ane hardyment douchtely 

Wes thair eschewit^ full hardely. 

Thai dang on othir with wapnys ser ; ^ 

Sum of the horss, that stekit wer, 

Ruschit and relit richt roydly.^ 

Bot the reraauant, nocht-for-thi/ 

That mycht cum to the assembling,^ 

For that lat^ maid rycht no stynting,^'' no 

But assemblit full hardely. 

And thai met thame full sturdely 

With speris that war scharp to scher, 

And axis that weill grundyn wer, 

Quhar-with wes roucht full mony rout.^^ 

The ficht wes thair so fell and stout, 

That mony worthy men and wicht, 

Throu forss, wes fellit in that ficht, 

That had no mycht to ryss agane. 

The Scottis men fast can thame payne^^ jjo 

Thair fais mekill mycht to rnss.^^ 

I trow thai sail no payne refuss, 

Na perell, quhill thar fais be 

Set in-till herd proplexite. 

And quhen the erll of Murref sa i* 
Thair avaward saw stoutly ta^^ 
The way to schir Eduard all straucht, 
That met thame with full mekill maucht. 
He held his way with his baner 
Till the gret rout,i^ quhar sammyn i" wer 130 
The nyne battales that wes so braid, 
That so feill baneris with thame had, 
And of men sa gret quantite. 
That it war wonder for to se. 
The gud erll thiddir tuk the way 
With his battale in gud aray. 
And assemblit so hardely, 
Quliill men mycht her, that had beyn by, 
A gret frusche of the speres that brast. 
For thair fais assalyeit^^ fast, 140 

That on stedis, with mekill prid, 
Com prikand as thai wald our-ryd ^^ 
The erll and all his cumpany. 
Bot thai met thame so sturdely, 
That mony of thame till erd thai bar. 
And mony a steid wes stekit thar, 

» breaking. 2 without doubt. 3 stabbed. 

• achieved. * various weapons. • reeled right 

rudely. ^ nevertheless, s encounter. 9 hindrance. 
I " stopping. 11 dealt full manj- a blow. 12 exert. 
»» overthrow. " saw. is take. i^ band, crowd. 
" together. I8 assailed. i» over-ride. 



And mony gud man fellit undir feit, 

That had no power to riss yeit. 

Ther men mycht se ane hard battale, 

And sum defend and sum assale, 150 

And mony a riall rymmyll'^'^ ryde^^ 

Be roucht ^'^ thair apon aithir syde, 

Quhill throu the byrueiss ^^ brist ^^ the 

bind. 
That till the erd doune stremand yud.^ 
The erll of Murreff and his men 
So stoutly thame contenit-^ then, 
That thai wan plass^' ay mair and mair 
On thair fais, the quhethir^^ thai war 
Ay ten for ane, or ma.^^ perfay; 
Swa that it semyt weill that thai 160 

War tynt^*^ emang so gret menghe,^i 
As thai war plungit in the se. 
And quhen the Yngliss men has seyne 
The erll and all his men be-deyue ^ 
Fecht sa stoutly, but effrapng,^^ 
Richt as thai had nane abaysing,^^ 
Thai pressit thame with all thar mycht. 
And thai, with speris and suerdis^^ brycht. 
And axis that rycht scharply schar,^ 
In-myd the visage^' met thame thar 170 
Thar men mycht se ane stalwart stonr,^^ 
And mony men of gret valour 
With speris, macyss,^ and with knyvis, 
And othir wapnys vissilH'^ thair lyvis, 
Swa that mony fell doune all ded; 
The gyrss wox"^^ with the blude all red. 
The erll, that wicht wes and worthy. 
And his men fancht so manfully, 
That, quha sa ■^- had seyne thaim that day, 
I trow, forsuth, that thai suld say, 180 

That thai suld do thair devour ^^ -^ele, 
Swa that thair fayis suld it feill. 

(XIII, 1-408) 

Qwhen that thir two first batellis wer 

Assemblit, as I said yow er, 

The Steward, Walter that than wes, 

And the gud lord als of Dougless, 

In a battale quhen that thai saw 

The erll, f orouten '^^ dreid or aw, 

Assemmyll '^° with his cumpany 

On all the folk so sturdely, 190 

For till help him thai held thar way 

With thar battale in gud aray, 

to royal blow. 21 severe. 22 reached, struck. 

23 breast-plate. 24 burst. 25 went. 26 conducted. 
27 gained ground. 2s although. 29 more. so lost. 
31 numbers. 32 forthwith. 33 without being afraid. 
31 dismay. 35 swords. 36 cut. 37 Face to face. 
38 severe shock. 39 maces. " exchange. «i grass 
grew. *2 whosoever. ■»3 duty. ** without. ** attack. 



33^ 



JOHN BARBOUR 



And assemmyllit so hardely 

Besyd the erll a litill by, 

Thair fais feld ^ tliair cummyng weill; 

For with wapiiys stalwart of steill 

Thai dang -^ on thauie with all thar mycht. 

Thair fais resavit thame weill, I hycht,^ 

With swerdis, speris, and with macyss. 

The battale thair so felloune ^ was, 200 

And sua richt gret spilling of bind, 

That on the erd the fluss^ it stud. 

The Scottis men so weill thame bar, 

And sua gret slauchtir maid thai thar, 

And f ra so feill ^ the livis revit,'' 

That all the feild was bludy levit.^ 

That tym thir^ thre battalis wer 

All syde be syde fechtand weill neir. 

That mycht man her richt mony dynt 

And wapnys apon armour stynt,!*^ 210 

And se tummyll 11 knychtis and stedis, 

With mony rich and ryoll wedis 

Defoulit roydly under feit. 

Sum held on loft, sum tynt the suet.^^ 

A long qnhill thus fechtand ^^ thai wer, 

That men no noyis na cry mycht her; 

Men herd nocht ellis bot granys^^ and dyntis 

That slew ^^ fire, as men dois on flyntis; 

Sa f aucht thai ilkane ^^ egirly 

That thai maid nouthir noyis no cry, 220 

Bot dang on othir at that mycht, 

With wapnys that war burnyst brycht. 

The arrowis als so thik thai flaw,^^ 

That thai mycht say weill, at ^^ thaim saw. 

That thai ane hydwiss ^^ schour can ma; 

For quhar thai fell, I undirta, 

Thai left eftir thame taknyng 20 

That sail neid, as I trow, lechyng.21 

The Yngliss archeris schot so fast. 

That, mycht thar schot haf had last,^ 230 

It had beyne hard to Scottis men. 

Bot king Kobert, that weill can ken 

That the archeris war perelouss, 

And thar schot hard and richt grevouss, 

Ordanit forrouth ^^ the assemble 

His marschall with a gret menghe,^^ 

Fiff hundreth armyt weill in steill, 

That on licht horss war horsyt weill, 

For to prik emang the archeris, 

And sua assailye thame with speris 240 

That thai no laser haf to schute. 

This marschall that I of mut,^^ 

1 felt. 2 hammered. 3 promise. * wicked, 

bitter. * marsh. 6 many. ? bereft. s left. 
» these. 10 struck. " tumble. 12 lost their life- 
blood (lit., sweat). 13 fighting. 14 groans, is struck. 
16 each one. " flew. 18 that. i« hideous. 20 token. 
21 doctoring. 22 continuance. 23 commanded out 
from. »* number. 25 tell. 



That schir Robert of Keth wes cald. 

As I befor hass to yow tald, 

Quhen that he saw the battalis swa 

Assemmyll and to-giddir ga, 

And saw the archeris schut stoutly, 

With all thame of his cumpany 

In hy apon thame can ^^ he ryde. 

And our-tuk thame at a syde, 250 

And ruschit emang thaim so roydly, 

Strikand thame sua dispitfully, 

And in sic fusioune^" berand doune 

And slay and thame without ransoune,^^ 

That thai thame scalit euirilkane; ^^ 

And fra that tyme furth ther wes nane 

That assemlit sic schot till ma.^*^ 

Quhen Scottis archeris saw at swa 

Thai war rebutit,^^ thai wox hardy. 

With all thar mycht schot egirly 260 

Emang the horss-men that thar raid, 

And woundis wyde to thame thai maid. 

And slew of thame a wele gret dele; 

Thai bar hame hardely and weill. 

For fra ^^ thair fais archeris were 

Scalit, as I have said yhow ere, 

That ma than thai war be gret thing,^^ 

Swa that thai dred nocht thar schuting. 

Thai wox so hardy that thame thoucht 

Thai suld set all thair fais at noucht. 270 

The marschall and his cumpany 
Wes yeit,^^ as to yow ere said I, 
Amang the archeris, quhar thai maid 
With speris rowme qnhar at ^^ thai raid. 
And slew all that thai mycht ourta.^^ 
And thai weill lichtly mycht do swa, 
For thai had nocht a strak to stynt, 
Na for to hald agane a dynt; 
And agane armyt men to ficht 
May nakit ^"^ men haff litill mycht. 280 

Thai scalit thame on sic maner. 
That sum to thar gret battelis wer 
Withdrawin thnim in full gret hy. 
And sum war fled all utrely.^^ 
Bot the folk that behynd thame was. 
That for thair awne folk had no space 
Yeit than to cum to the assemblyng. 
In agane smertly can thai dyng.^^ 
The archeris that thai met fleand,^*^ 
That than war maid so recryand,^^ 290 

That thair hertis war tynt ^ cleirly, 
I trow thai sail nocht scath ^^ gretly 

26 did. 27 confusion. 28 ransom, quarter. 29 scat- 
tered everyone. 3" make. ^i repulsed. 32 after. 
33 Who were many more than they. 34 gone. 35 room 
wherever. 36 overtake. 37 unarmed. 38 utterly. 
39 did thrust. 40 fleeing. *i recreant. « lost. 
4J injury. 



THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN 



337 



The Scottis men with schot that day. 
And the gud king Robert, that ay- 
Was unit of full gret bounte, 
Saw how that his battelis thre 
So hardely asseinblit thar, 
That so Weill in the ficht thame bar, 
And sa fast on thair fais can dyng 
That him thoucht nane had abaysing, 300 
And how the archeris war scalit then; 
He was all blith, and till his men 
He said, " Lordingis, now luk that yhe 
Worthy and of gud covyne ^ be 
At this assemble, and hardy ; 
And assemmyll so sturdely 
That no thing may befor yow stand. 
Our men so freschly ar fechtand, 
That thai thair fais has cumrait ^ swa 
That, be thai presit, I undirta,^ 310 

A litill fastar, yhe sail se 
That thai discumfit soyn ^ sail be. 
Now ga we on them so hardely, 
And ding on them sa doughtely, 
That they may feele, at our comming, 
That we them hate in meekle thing: 
For great cause they have us made. 
That occupied our landis brade. 
And put all to subiectioun : 
Your goodis made all theirs commonn: 320 
Our kyn and friendis, for their awne, 
Despitteously hanged and drawne: 
And wald destroy us gif ^ they might. 
Bot, I trow, God, through his foresight. 
This day hes grented us his grace 
To wrek^ us on them in this place." 
Quhen this wes said, thai held thar way, 
And on a syde assemblit thai 
So stoutly, that at thar cummyng 
Thair fais wer ruschit ^ a gret thing. 330 
Ther men mycht se men freschly ficht. 
And men that worthy war and wycht 
Do mony worthy vassalage;^ 
Thai faucht as thai war in a rage. 
For quhen the Scottis ynkirly ^ 
Saw thair fais sa sturdely 
Stand in-to battale thame agane,i^ 
With all thar mycht and all thar mayne 
Thai layd on, as men out of wit; 
For quhar thai with full strak mycht hit, 340 
Thair mycht no armyng stynt thar strak ; ^^ 
Thai to-f ruschit ^'^ thame thai mycht our-tak, 
And with axis sic duschis gaff ^^ 
That thai helmys and hedis claff ^^ 

1 counsel. 2 harassed. ^ undertake. < soon. 
B if. 6 avenge. ? driven far back. s prowess. 
9 specially. 10 against. " check their stroke. 

13 Bmashed to pieces. " blows gave. 1* cleft. 



And thair fais richt hardely 

Met thame, and dang on douchtely 

With wapnys that war stith ^^ of steill. 

Thar wes the battell strikyn weill ; 

So gret dynnyng ther wes of dyntis 

As wapnys apon armor styntis, 350 

And of speris so gret bristiug,!^ 

With sic thrawing i" and sic thristing,!^ 

Sic gyrnyng, granyng,!^ and so gret 

A noyis, as thai can othir bet,^ 

And cryit ensengheis^^ on everilk ^^ gy^^ 

Gif and and takand woundis wyd, 

That it wes hydwiss for till her 

All four the battelis, wicht ^3 that wer, 

Fechtand in-till a ^^ front haly. 

Almychty God ! full douchtely 360 

Schir Edward the Bryss and his men 

Amang thair fais contenyt thame then, 

Fechtand in-to sa gud covyne ^ 

So hardy, worthy, and so fyne. 

That thar awaward^e ruschit was, 

And, magre thairis,^^ left the plais, 

And to thar gret rowt to warrand ^3 

Thai went, that than had apon hand, 

So gret not,20 that thai war effrait. 

For Scottis men thame hard assait,^*^ 370 

That than war in ane schiltrum ^^ all. 

Quha hapnit in that ficht to fall, 

I trow agane he suld nocht riss. 

Ther men mycht se on mony wiss 

Hardyment eschewit '^'^ douchtely, 

And mony that wicht war and hardy 

Doune under feit lyand all dede, 

Quhar all the feild of bind wes red. 

Arm oris and quyntis ^^ that thai bare 

With bind wes swa defowlit thar, 380 

That thai mycht nocht discrivit ^^ be. 

A ! mychty God ! quha than mycht se 

The Steward Walter and his rout 

And the gud Dowglas that wes stout 

Fechtand in-to the stalward stour,^^ 

He suld say that till all honour 

Thai war worthy, that in that ficht 

Sa fast presit thair fais mycht, 

That thai thame ruschit ^^ quhar thai 

yeid.^" 
Thair mycht men se mony a steid 390 

Fleand on stray, that lord had nane. 
A ! lord ! quha than gud tent ^^ had tane 

15 strong. 18 breaking, i^ twisting, is thrusting. 
19 grinning, groaning. 20 did beat others. 21 battle- 
cries. 22 every. 23 stout. 24 one. 25 -with so 
good a plan. 26 vanguard. 27 in spite of themselves. 
28 shelter. 29 business. 30 assailed. ^i squadron. 
32 achieved. ^3 Coats of armor and badges. ^^ dis- 
cerned, made out. 35 shock of battle. 36 bore back. 
37 went. 38 notice. 



338 



JOHN BARBOUR 



To the gild erll off Murreff, 
And his, that swa gret rowtis ^ gaf, 
And faucht so fast in that battale, 
Tholand ^ sic payne and sic travale, 
That thai and tliairis maid sic debat, 
That quhar thai com, thai maid thaim gat ! ^ 
Than niycht mien heir ensengheis cry, 
And Scottis men cry hardely, 400 

* On tliame ! On thame I On thame 1 thai 

faill!' 
With that so hard thai can assaill, 
And slew all that thai mycht our-ta,^ 
And the Scottis archeris alsna 
Schot emang thame so sturdely, 
Ingrevand ^ thame so gretumly,^ 
That quhat for'^ thame that with thame 

faucht, 
And swa gret rowtis to thame raucht,^ 
And presit thame full egirly, 
And quhat for arrowes that felly 410 

Mony gret woundis can thame ma,^ 
And slew fast of thair horss alsua, 
That thai vayndist a litell we '^^ ; 
Thai dred so gretly thane till de ^^ 
That thair covyne was war than eir.^^ 
For thai that with thame fechtand weir 
Set hardyment, and strjmth, and will, 
With hart and corage als thar-till,^^ 
And all thair mayne and all thar mycht, 
To put thame f ouly to the flycht. 420 

In this tyme that I tell of her, 
That the battall on this maner 
Wes strikin,^^ quhar on athir party 
Thai war fechtand richt manfully, 
Yhemen, swanys, and poveraill,!^ 
That in the pare to yheyme ^^ vittale 
War left ; quhen thai wist, but lesing,!"^ 
That thair lordis with fell fiehtyng 
On thair fais assemblit war, 
Ane of them-selwyne that wes thar 430 

Capitane of thame all thai maid ; 
And schetis that war sum-deill braid 
Thai festnyt in steid of baneris 
Apon lang treis and on speris, 
And said that thai wald se the ficht. 
And help thar lordis at thar mycht. 
Quhen her-till all assentit war, 
And in a rowt assemblit ar, 
Fiften thousand thai war and ma. 
And than in gret hy thai can ga ^^ 440 

1 blows. 2 Enduring. « yield ground. * overtake, 
s Injuring. « severely. ^ what with. » reached 
them so great blows. « did cause. 10 gave way a little. 
11 to die. 12 their plight was worse than before, is also 
thereto, i^ stricken, fought, is Yeomen, rustics, and 
poor people, is guard, i^ without mistake, is did go. 



With thair baneris all in a rout, 
As thai had men beyn stith ^^ and stout. 
Thai com with all that assemble 
Richt quhill 20 thai mycht the battale se. 
Than all at anys 21 thai gaf ane cry — 
' Apon tiiame ! on thame hardely 1 ' 
And thar-with-all cumand 22 ar thai. 
Bot thai war yeit weill fer away. 
And Yngliss men, that ruschit war 
Throu forss of ficht, as I said air,23 450 

Quhen thai saw cum with sic a cry 
Toward thame sic ane cumpany. 
That thai thoucht weill als mony war 
As at^^ war fechtand with thame thar. 
And thai befor had thame nocht seyne. 
Than, wit yhe weill, withouten weyne,^^ 
Thai war abasit so gretumly,^^ 
That the best and the mast hardy 
That wes in-till the oost 2" that day 
Wald, with thar mensk,^^ have beyn away. 
The king Robert be thair relyng ^9 461 

Saw thai war neir discomfyting, 
And his ensenghe can hely ^^ cry. 
Than with thame of his cumpany 
His fais presit so fast, that thai 
War than in-till sa gret efPray,^i 
That thai left place ay mar and mar. 
For all the Scottis men that war thar, 
Quhen thai saw thame eschew ^^ the ficht. 
Dang on thame swa with all thar mycht, 
That thai scalit in tropellis ser,^^ 471 

And till discumfitur war ner; 
And sum of thame fled all planly. 
Bot thai that wicht war and hardy, 
That schame letit till ta ^* the flicht, 
At gret myschef mantemyt ^^ the ficht. 
And stithly in the stour can stand. 
And quhen the king of Ingland 
Saw his men fle in syndry place, 
And saw his fais rout,^*^ that was 480 

Worthyn so wicht ^'^ and so hardy. 
That all his folk war halely ^^ 
Swa stonayit,^^ that thai had no mycht 
To stynt thair fais in the ficht. 
He was abasit so gretumly. 
That he and all his cumpany, 
Fif hundreth armyt weill at ryeht, 
In-till a frusche^o all tuk the flycht, 
And till the castell held ther way. 
And yeit, as I herd sum men say, 490 

19 able. 20 till. 21 once. 22 coming. 23 before. 
24 that. 25 doubt. 26 so greatly dismayed. 27 host. 
28 honor. 29 reeling, wavering. so loudly. si in 
such a fright. S2 avoid. S3 scattered in several small 
bands. 34 hindered from taking. ss maintained. 
S6 host. 37 Become so powerful. 38 completely. 
39 dismayed. *° In broken ranks. 



THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN 



339 



That of Vallanch schir Amer 

Quhen he the feld saw vencust ^ ner, 

By the renye ^ led away the king, 

Agane his will, fra the fichting. 

And quheu schir Gelis de Argente 

Saw the king thus and his nienghe ^ 

Schape thame to fle so spedely, 

He com richt to the kyng in hy, 

And said, ' Schir, sen that is swa, 

That ye thusgat * your gat will ga,^ 500 

Haffis ^ gud day ! for agane will I; 

Yheit fled I nevir sekirly,'^ 

And I cheiss heir to byde and de 

Than till lif heir ^ and scharaf ully fle.* 

His brydill than but mair abaid^ 

He turnyt, and agane he raid, 

And on schir Eduard the Brysis rout 

That wes so sturdy and so stout, 

As dreid of nakyn ^^ thing had he, 

He prikit, cry and ' Argente ! ' 510 

And thai with speris swa him met, 

And swa feill ^^ speris on hym set, 

That he and horss war chargit swa 

That bath doiine to the erd can ga; 

And in that place than slayne wes he. 

Of his ded wes rycht gret pite ; 

He wes the thrid best knycht, perfay, 

That men wist liffand in his day ; 

He did mony a fair iourne.^^ 

On Sarisenis thre derenyeis ^^ did he; 520 

And in-till ilk derenye of thai 

He vencust Sarisenis twa; 

His gret worschip tuk thar ending. 

And fra i"* schir Amer with the king 

Wes fled, wes uane that durst abyde, 

Bot fled, scalit on ilka syde. 

And thair fais thame presit fast, 

Thai war, to say suth, all agast. 

And fled swa richt efl:'rayitly ^^ 

That of thame a full gret party 530 

Fled to the wattir of Forth ; and thar 

The mast part of them drownit war. 

And Bannokburn, betuix the braiss,^® 

Of horss and men so chargit wass, 

That apon drownit horss and men 

Men mycht pass dry atour^" it then. 

And laddis, swanys, and rangall,^^ 

Quhen thai saw vencust the battall, 

Ran emang thame and swa can sla 

Thai folk, that no defens mycht ma, 540 

1 vanquished. 2 rein. 3 retinue. * in this 

fashion. s will go your way. ^ Have. '' certainly.- 
8 to live here. » without more delay. 10 no kind of. 
" many, 12 feat of arms. i3 conflicts. " after, is in 
a panic, "banks, i? across, is peasants and rabble. 



That it war pite for to se. 

I herd nevir quhar, in na cuntre, 

Folk at swa gret myschef war stad 1^; 

On a ^^ syde thai thair fais had. 

That slew thame doune without mercy, 

And thai had on the tothir party 

Bannokburne, that sa cummyrsum ^i was 

Of slyk,22 and depnes for till pas, 

That thair mycht nane atour it ryde. 

Thame worthit,^^ magre thairis,-^ abyde; 550 

Swa that sum slayne, sum drownit war; 

Micht nane eschap that evir com thar. 

The quhethir ^5 mony gat away. 

That ellis-whar fled, as I herd say. 

The kyng, with thame he with him had. 

In a rout till the castell raid, 

And wald have beyn tharin, for thai 

Wist nocht quhat gat ^6 to get away. 

Bot Philip the Mowbray said him till 

*The castell, schir, is at yhour will; 560 

Bot, cum yhe in it, yhe sail se 

That yhe sail soyne assegit be. 

And thar sail nane of all Yngland 

To mak yow rescourss ^' tak on hand. 

And but rescours may no castele 

Be haldin lang: yhe wat this wele; 

Tharfor confort yow, and relye ^^ 

Your men about yow richt straitlye, 

And haldis about the Park the way. 

Knyt yow als sadly ^ as yhe may, 570 

For I trow that nane sail haf mycht 

That chassis, with so feill to ficht.* 

And as he consalit, thai have done; 

Beneth the castell went thai soyne,^'' 

Richt by the Rownde Tabill thair way, 

And sjuie the Park enveronyt ^^ thai, 

And toward Lithkew held in hy. 

Bot, 1 trow, thai sail hastely 

Be convoyit with folk, that thai, 

I trow, mycht suffer weill away ! ^^ jgQ 

For schir lames, lord of Douglass, 

Com till his kyng and askit the chass. 

And he gaf him lef but abaid.^^ 

Bot all to few of horss he hade; 

He had nocht in his rowt sexty, 

The quhethir he sped him hastely 

The way eftir the kyng to ta. 

Now let him on his wayis ga. 

And eftir this we sail weill tell 

Quhat till hym in his chass byfell. 590 

19 placed. 20 one. 21 difficult to cross. 22 mud. 
23 It behooved them. 24 in spite of themselves. 

25 Nevertheless. 26 way. 27 rescue. 28 rally. 

29 close your ranks as closely, so soon, si went round. 
32 would gladly have absent. 33 without delay. 



* BLIND HARRY' 



THE WALLACE 



THE FISHING ADVENTURE 

ih 3^7-433) 

So on a tym he desyrit to play. 
In Aperill the three and twentieth day, 
Till Erevyii wattir fysche to tak he went; 
Sic fantasye fell in his entent.^ 
To leide ^ his net, a child furth with him 

yeid ; ^ 
But he, or nowne,^ was in a fellowne ^ dreid. 
His suerd he left, so did he nevir agayne; 
It dide him gud, siippos ^ he sufferyt payne. 
Off that labour as than he was nocht sle: '^ 
Happy he was, tuk fysche haboundanle. lo 
Or ^ of the day ten hours our couth pas,® 
Ridand thar come, ner by quhar Wallace was, 
The lorde Persye, was captane than off Ayr; 
Fra thine ^*^ he turnde and couth to Glas- 

kow fair.ii 
Part of the court had Wallace labour seyne, 
Till him raid five cled into ganand greyne,!^ 
Aud said sone ; ' Scot, Martyns fysche ^^ we 

wald have.' 
Wallace meklye agayne ansuer him gave; 

* It war resone, me think, yhe suld haif part: 
Waith ^'^ suld be delt, in all place, with fre 

hart.' 20 

He bad his child, *Gyff thaim of our 

waithyng.' ^^ 
The Sothroun said; 'As now of thi delyng 
We will nocht tak, thow wald giff us our^^ 

small.' 
He lychtyt doun, and fra the child tuk all. 
Wallas said than ; ' Gentill men gif ^^ ye be, 
Leiff us sum part, we pray for cherj'te. 
An agyt knycht servis our Lady to day; 
Gud frend, leiff part and tak nocht allaway.' 

* Thow sail haiff leiff i' to fysche, and tak 

the ma,i^ 
All this forsuth sail in our flyttyngi® ga. 

1 Such a fancy he conceived. 2 carry. 3 a young 
fellow went with him. * ere noon. 5 extreme. 

8 although. 7 skillful. s Ere. » did pass by. 

10 thence, n did go to Glasgow. 12 in comely green. 
13 Unexplained. h Spoil. is too. 16 if. 17 have 
leave. is more for thyself. is baggage. 



We serff a lord; thir^o fysches all till him 

Wallace ansuerd, said; 'Thow art in the 

wrang.' 
' Quham thowis 21 thow, Scot ? in faith thow 

servis 2^ a blaw.' 
Till him he ran, and out a suerd can^-^ draw. 
Willy ham was wa^^ he had na wappy nis thar, 
Bot the poutstaff,^^ the quhilk*** in hand he 

bar. 
Wallas with it fast on the cheik him tuk 
Wyth so gud will, quhill^^ of his feit he 

schuk. 
The suerd flaw fra him a fur breid ^s on the 

land. 
Wallas was glaid, and hjnt^ it sone in 

hand ; 40 

And with the swerd awkwart^^ he him gave 
Undyr the hat, his crage ^^ in sondre drave. 
Be that the layff ^^ lychtyt about Wallas; 
He had no helpe, only bot Goddis grace. 
On athir side full fast on him thai dang ; ^^ 
Gret perell was giff thai had lestyt lang. 
Apone the hede in gret ire he strak ane; 
The scherand^^ suerd glaid ^^ to the colar 

bane. 
Ane othir on the arme he hitt so hardely, 
Quhill hand and suerd bathe on the feld 

can ly. 50 

The tothir twa fled to thar hors agayne; 
He stekit him was last apon the playne. 
Thre slew he thar, twa fled with all thair 

mycht 
Eftir thar lord; bot he was out off sicht, 
Takand the mure,^ or he and thai couth 

twyne.^'^ 
Till him thai raid onon, or thai wald blyne,^^ 
And cryit; 'Lord, abide; your men ar 

martyrit doun ^ 
Rycht cruelly, her in this fals regioun. 

20 these. 21 Sayest'thou' to. MS.dorcis. 22 de- 
serves. 23 (jid. 24 woeful. 25 pole (with a net on 
the end). 26 which. 27 till. 28 a furrow's length 
away. 29 seized. 3o with a backward stroke. 3i neck. 
32 By that time the rest. 33 struck. 34 cutting. 

35 glided. 36 Crossing the moor. »7 separate. 

38 cease. " cut down. 



WALLACE AND THE ENGLISH QUEEN 



341 



Five of our court her at the wattir baid,^ 
Fysche for to bryng, thocht it na profyt 

maid. 60 

We ar cbapyt,^ bot in feyld slayne are 

thre.' 
The lord speryt;^ 'How mony mycht thai 

be?' 
• We saw bot ane that has discumfyst us 

all.' 
Thanlewch^ he lowde,and said; ' Foule mot 

yow fall ; ^ 
Sen^ ane yow all has putt to confusiouu. 
Quha menys''' it maist, the devyll of hell 

him droun; 
This day for me, in faith, he beis nocht 

socht.' 



WALLACE AND THE ENGLISH 

QUEEN 

(vni, 1213-1496) 

Adam Wallace and Boid f urth with him 

yeid,8 
By a revir, throu out a floryst^ meid. 
And as thai walk atour ^'^ the f eyldis greyn, 
Out off the south thai saw quhar at ^^ the 

queyn, 
Towart the ost,^ come ridand sobyrly; 
And fyfty ladyis was in hyr cumpany, 
Wallyt off 1^ wit, and demyt" off renoun; 
Sum wedowis war, and sum off religioun; 
And seven preistis that entrit ^^ war in age. 
Wallace to sic did nevir gret owtrage, 10 
Bot gyff ^^ till him thai maid a gret offens. 
Thus prochyt^" thai on towart tharpresens. 
At the palyoun,^^ quhar thai the lyoun saw. 
To ground thai lycht, and syne^^ on kneis 

can faw;2*^ 
Prayand for pece thai cry with petous cher. 
Erll Malcom said; *Our chyftayn is nocht 

her.' 
He bad hyr rys, and said it was nocht rycht, 
A queyn on kneis till ony lawar^i wycht. 
Up by the hand the guderll has hyr tayn; 
Atour the bent^- to Wallace ar thai gayn. 
Quhen scho him saw, scho wald haiff knelyt 

doune ; 2 i 

In armys sone he caucht this queyn with 

croun, 

1 abode. * escaped. 3 asked. * laughed. 

5 Curse on you. « Since. ^ Who bemoans. 8 went. 
» blooming. 10 across. n where that. 12 host. 
13 Chosen for. 1* judged. is advanced. 18 Unless. 
1" approached, is pavilion. i* then. *" did fall. 
*i lower. 22 plain. 



And kyssythyr withoutyn wordis mor; 
Sa dyd he nevir to na Sotheron befor. 
* Madem,' he said, 'rycht welcum mot ye be; 
How plessis yow omr ostyng^s for to se? ' 
' Rycht weyll,' scho said, ' off freudschip 

haiff we neid ; 
God grant ye wald off our nessis^* to speid. 
Suffyr we mon,2o suppos it lik^^ us ill; 
Bot trastis weyll,^' it is contrar our will.' 30 
' Ye sail remayn, with this lord I mon gang; 
Fra your presens we sail nocht tary laug.' 
The erll and he on to the palyon yeid. 
With gud avys to deym mar 2s off this deid. 
Till cousell son Wallace gart-® call thaim to; 
' Lordys,' he said, 'ye wait^"^ quhat is ado. 
Off thar cummyng my selff has na ples- 

ance ; 
Herfor mon we wyrk with ordinance. ^^ 
AVemen may become tempnyng in to 

wer,^2 
Amang fullis^^ that can thaim nocht for- 

ber. 40 

I say nocht this be thir,^-* nor yeit the queyn; 
I trow it be bot gud that scho will meyn. 
Bot sampyll^ tak off lang tym passit by; 
At Rownsywaill^ the tresoun was playnly 
Be wemen maid, that Ganyelon with him 

brocht, 
And Turke wyn;^'^ forber thaim couth thai 

nocht. 
Langws3« iu wer gert thaim desyr thair will, 
Quhilk brocht Charlis to f ellon '^^ loss and ill. 
The flour off France, withoutyn redemp- 

cionn, 
Throuch that foull deid, was brocht to con- 
fusiouu. 50 
Commaund your men tharfor in privay 

wys,**^ 
Apayn "^^ off lyff thai wyrk nocht on sic wys, 
Nane spek with thaim, bot wysmen off gret 

waill,42 
At^^ lordis ar, and sworn to this consaill.' 
Thir chargis thai did als wysly as thai 

mocht; 
This ordynance throw all the ost was 

wrocht. 
He and the erll bathe to the queyn thai 

went, 
Rasavyt hyr fayr, and brocht hyr till a tent; 

23 array. 24 Perhaps corruption of needs. 25 must. 
26 please. 27 believe well. 2s With good advice to 
judge more. 29 caused. 'o know. 3i order. 

32 Women may become tempting in war. MS. be eon- 
tempnyng. 33 fools. 34 concerning these. 3a exam- 
ple. 36 Roncesvalles. '^ Turkish wine. 33 tedium (?). 
39 deadly. ^o privately. ^1 On pain. " avail, 
weight. 43 That. 



342 



BLIND HARRY' 



1 



To dyner bovvnyt^ als gudly as thai can; 
And servit was with mony likly'-^ man. 60 
Gud purvyance the queyn had with hyr 

wrocht; 
A say^ scho tuk off all thyng at thai 

brocht. 
Wallace persavyt, and said; * We haiff no 

dreid: 
I can nocht trow ladyis wald do sic deid, 
To poysoun men, for all Ingland to wyn.' 
The queyn ansuerd; *Gyff poysoun be 

tharin, 
Off ony thyng quhilk is brocht her with me, 
Apon my selff fyrst sorow sail ye se.' 
Sone eftir meit, a marchell gart all absent, 
Bot lordis, and thai at suld to consaill went. 
Ladyis apperyt in presens with the queyn. 
Wallace askyt, quhat hyr cumrayng mycht 

meyn. 72 

* For pes,' scho said, ' at we haiff to yow 

socht; 
This byrnand* wer in bailP has mony 

brocht. 
Ye grant us pees, for him that deit on tre.' 
Wallace ansuerd; * Madeym, that may 

nocht be. 
Ingland has doyne sa gret harmys till us. 
We may nocht pass, and lychtly leiff it 

thus.' 

* Yeis,' said the queyne, ' for crystyn folk 

we ar. 
For Goddis saik, sen we desyr no mar, 80 
We awcht pess.' ^ ' Madeym, that I deny. 
The perfyt cans I sail yow schawfor qnhy; 
Ye seke na pes bot for your awn availl." 
Qnhen your fals king had Scotland grippyt 

haill, 
For nakyn ^ thing that he befor him f and. 
He wald nocht thoill ^ the rycht blud in our 

land; 
Bot reft thar rent, syne put thaim selff to 

dederio 
Ransoun off gold mycht mak us na remed. 
His fell fals wer^i sail on him selff be 

seyn.' 
Than sobyrly till him ansuerd the queyn ; 90 
' Off thir wrangis^^ amendis war most fair.' 

* Madeym,' he said, * off him we ask no 

mar, 
Bot at he wald byd^^ us in to battaill; 
And God be juge, he kennys ^^ the mater 

haiU.' 

1 prepared. 2 suitable. 3 taste. * burning, 
B harm, s ought to have peace by right. 7 advantage. 
8 no kind of. a endure. 10 death. n terrible, 
unjust vear. 12 these wrongs. i3 await. i< knows. 



* Sic mendis,' scho said, ' war nocht rycht 

gud, think me: 
Pes now war best, and ^^ it mycht purchest 

be. 
Wald yhe grant pes, and truys ^^ with us tak, 
Throuch all Ingland we suld gar prayeris 

mak 
For yow, and thaim at in the wer war lost.' 
Than Wallace said; ' Quhar sic thing cum- 
mys throuch bost,^" 100 

Prayer off fors,i^ quhar so at it be wrocht. 
Till us helpis othyr litill or ellis nocht.' 
Warlyi^ scho said; ' Thus wysmen has us 

kend,20 
Ay eftir wer pees is the finall end. 
Quharfor ye suld off your gret malice ces; 
The end off wer is cheryte and pes. 
Pees is in hevyn, with blyss and lestand- 

nas.2i 
We sail beseke the Pape, off his hie grace. 
Till commaund pes, sen we may do na 

mar.' 
'Madeym,' he said, ' or y our purches ^^ ^um 
thar, no 

Mendys we think off Ingland for to haiff.' 
' Quhat set yow thus,' scho said, * so God 

yow saiff, 
Fra violent wer at ye lik nocht to duell ? ' ^3 
*Madem,' he said, 'the suth I sail yow tell. 
Eftir the dayt off Alexandris ryng,^^ 
Our land stud thre yer desolate but '^^ king, 
Kepyt full weyll at concord in gud stait. 
Throuch twa clemyt,^^ thar hapnyt gret de- 
bait, 
So ernystf ully, accord thaim nocht thai can. 
Your king thai ast for to be thair ourman.^^ 
glely28 he slayd^® throuch strenthis^^ off 
Scotland: 121 

The kynryk ^i syne he tuk in his awn hand. 
He maid a kyng agayn our rycht wys law; 
For he of him suld hald the regioun aw.^"^ 
Contrar this band was all the haill barn- 
age, ^^ 
For Scotland was yeit nevir in to thrill- 
age. ^^ 
Gret Julius, that tribute gat off aw. 
His wynnyng was in Scotland bot full smaw. 
Than your fals king, undyr colour but mar,^ 
Throuch band ^^ he maid till Bruce that is 
our ayr,^'^ 130 

15 if. 16 truce. " threat. i3 perforce, i' Warily. 
20 shown. 21 lastingness. 22 soUcitation. 23 stop. 
24 reign. 25 without. 26 Because two claimed the 
crown. 27 umpire. 28 cunningly. 29 slid. 30 strong- 
holds. 31 kingdom. 32 all. 33 baronage. 34 thralldom. 
33 under pretense without more. 36 bond. 37 heir. 



WALLACE AND THE ENGLISH QUEEN 



343 



Throuch all Scotland with gret power thai 

raid, 
Undyr that king quhilk he befor had maid. 
To Bruce sen syne i he kepit na connand: ^ 
He said, he wald noeht ga and conquess land 
Till othir men; and thus the cas befell. 
Thau Scotland throuch he demayned^ him- 

sell; 
Slew our elderis, gret pete was to se. 
In presone syne lang tyme thai pyuit ^ me, 
Quhill I fra thaim was castyn out for ded. 
Thaukit be God he send me sum remed ! 140 
Vengyt to be I prevyt^ all my mycht; 
Feyll^ off thair kyn to dede syn I haiff 

dycht.7 
The rage off youth gert me desyr a wyff ; 
That rewit I sayr,^ and will do all my liff, 
A tratour knycht but mercy gert hyr de, 
Ane Hessilryg, bot^ for despit off me. 
Than rang '^^ I f urth in cruell wer and payn, 
Quhill we redemyt part off our land agayn. 
Than your curst king desyryt off iis a trew; ^^ 
Quhilk maid Scotland full rathly ^ for to 

rew. 150 

In to that pess thai set a suttell ayr/^ 
Than xviij scor to dede thai hangit thar, 
At noblis war, and worthi off reiioun; 
Off cot armys ^^ eldest in that regioun. 
Thar dede ^^ we think to veng in all our 

mycht. 
The woman als, that dulfuUy was dycht,^^ 
Out off my mynd that dede will nevir bid, 
Quhill God me tak fra this fals warld so wid. 
Off Sotheroun syn I can no pete haitt" ; 
Your men in wer I think nevir nior to saiff.' 
The breith^'^ teris, was gret payn to behald, 
Bryst fra his eyn, be^^ he his taill had tald. 
The queyn wepyt for pete off Wallace. 163 
* Allace,' scho said, ' wa worth the curssyt 

cace ! 
In waryit ^^ tym that Hesilryg was born ! 
Mony worthi throuch his deid ar forlorn. 
He suld haiff payn, that saikles '■^^ sic ane 

sleuch;2i 
Ingland sen syn has boucht it der enewch, 
Thocht scho had beyn a queyn or a pryn- 

sace.' 
'Madera,' he said, 'as God giff me gud 

grace, 170 

1 since then. 2 covenant. s domineered. ^ tor- 
tured. 5 proved, tried. 6 Many. ' done to deatli. 
8 I rued sorely. 9 only, i" raged. 11 truce. 12 soon. 
18 In that peace they held a crafty court of justice. 
M coat-armor. is Their death. i^ grievously was 
treated. i' angry. is before. i9 cursed. 20 in- 
nocent. 21 Blew. 



Prynsace or queyn, in quhat stait so thai be, 
In till hir tym scho was als der to me.' 
' Wallace,' scho said, ' off this talk we will 

ces; 
The mendis 22 heroff is gud prayer and pes.* 

* I grant,' he said, ' off me as now na 

mayr; 
This is rycht nocht bot ekyng^^ off our 

cayr.' 
The queyn fand weyll, langage no thing 

hyr bet; 24 
Scho trowit with gold that he mycht be our 

set.25 
Thre thousand pound, off fynest gold so 

red, 
Scho gert 26 be brocht to Wallace in that 

sted. 180 

* Madeym,' he said, * na sic tribut we craiff ; 
A notliir mendis we wald oft' Ingland haiff. 
Or 2" we raturn fra this regioun agajTi, 
Off your fals blud that has our elderis 

slayn. 
For all the gold and ryches ye in ryng,28 
Ye get no pes, bot 2^ desir off your king.' 
Quhen scho saw weill gold mycht hyr nocht 

releiff. 
Sum part in sport scho thoucht him for to 

preiff. 
'Wallace,' scho said, *yhe war clepyt my 

luff : 30 
Mor baundounly ^^ I maid me for to pruff ; ^2 
Traistand ^3 tharfor your rancour for to 

slak; 191 

Me think ye suld do sum thing for my 

saik.' 
Rycht wysly he maid ansuer to the queyn; 
'Madem,' he said, 'and^^ verite war seyn. 
That ye me luffyt, I awcht^^ yow luff 

agayn. 
Thir wordis all ar no thing bot in vayn. 
Sic luff" as that is nothing till avance. 
To tak a lak,^^ and syne get no plesance. 
In spech off luft' suttell ye Sotheroun ar ; 
Ye can ws mok, suppos ye se no mar.' 200 
*In London,' scho said, 'for yow I suf- 

feryt blaym ; 
Our consall als will lauch quhen we cum 

haym. 
So may thai say, wemen ar fers 3" off thocht 
To seke frendschip, and syne can get rycht 

nocht! ' 

22 amends, remedy. 23 increase. 24 helped. 25 won 
over. 26 caused. 27 ere. 2s reign in. 29 without. 
30 called my love. si recklessly. 32 caused myself 
to try. 33 trusting, s* if. 35 should owe. »6 play- 
thing. 37 eager. 



344 



* BLIND HARRY' 



1 



*Madem,' he said, * we wait^ how ye ar 

send; 
Yhe trow we haiff bot litill for to spend. 
Fyrst with your gold, for ye ar rych and 

wys, 
Yhe wald us blynd, sen Scottis ar so 

nys:2 
Syn plesand wordis off you and ladyis fayr, 
As quha suld dryff the byrdis till a 

swar ^ 2IO 

With the small pype, for it most fresche 

will call. 
Madam, as yit ye ma nocht tempt us all. 
Gret part off gud is left amang our kyn ; 
In Ingland als we fynd enewch to wyn.' 
Abayssyt ^ scho was to mak ansuer him till. 

* Der schyr,' scho said, ' sen this is at your 

will; 
Wer or pes, qnhat so yow likis best, 
Lat your hye witt and gud consaill degest.' ^ 

* Madem,' he said, ' now sail ye undirstand 
The resoune quhy that I will mak na 

band. 220 

With yow, ladyis, I can na trewis bynd ; 
For your fals king her eftir sone wald 

fynd, 
Quhen he saw tyme, to brek it at his will; 
And playnly say, he grantyt^ nocht thar- 

tiU. 
Than had we nayn bot ladyis to repruff. 
That sail he nocht, be God that is abuff. 
Upon wemen I will no wer begyn ; 
On you in faith no worschip is to wyn."^ 
All the haill pass ^ apon him selff he sail 

tak. 
Off pees or wer quhat hapnyt we to 

mak.' 230 

The queyn grantyt his ansuer sufficient; 
So dyd the layff ^ in place that was present. 
His delyverance 1° thai held off gret availl, 
And stark enewch to schaw to thair con- 
saill. 
Wa was the qweyn hyr travaill helpyt 

nocht. 
The gold scho tuk, that thai had with hyr 

brocht. 
In to the ost rycht frely scho it gayff, 
Till euirylk man that likyt for till haiff. 
Till menstraillis, harroldis, scho delt ha- 

boundanle, 
Besekand 11 thaim hyr frend at thai wald 

be. 240 

1 know. 2 foolish. 8 snare. * Abashed, s settle. 

* agreed. ^ no honor is to be won. s responsibility. 
8 rest. 10 speech. 11 beseeching. 



Quhen Wallace saw the fredom^^ off the 

queyn, 
Sadly he said ; ' The suth weyll has beyn 

seyn, 
Wemen may tempt the wysest at is wrocht.^^ 
Your gret gentrice it sail nevir be for 

nocht. 
We yow assure, our ost sail muff na thing,!^ 
Quhyll 1^ tym ye may send message fra 

your king. 
Gyff it be sa at he accord and we. 
Than for your saik it sail the bettir be. 
Your Harroldys als sal saiffiy cum and ga ; 
For your fredom we sail trowbill na 

ma.' 250 

Scho thankit him off his grant mony sys,^^ 
And all the ladyis apon a gudly wys. 
Glaidly thai drank, the queyn and gud 

Wallace; 
Thir ladyis als, and lordis in that place. 
Hyr ley tf scho tuk with out langar abaid ; 
Fyve myile that nycht south till a nonry ^"^ 

raid. 
Apon the morn till London passit thai. 
In Westmenster, quhar at the consaill lay : 
Wallace ansuer scho gart schaw to the 

king. 
It nedis nocht her rahers^^ mar off this 

thing. 260 

The gret commend that scho to Wallace 

gaiff, 
Befor the king, in presens off the laiff. 
Till trew Scottis it suld gretly apples,^^ 
Thocht Inglismen tharoff had litill es;^^ 
Oft" worschip, wyt, manheid, and governans, 
Off fredom, trewth; key off remembrans 
Scbo callyt him thar in to thair hye presens; 
Thocht contrar thaim he stud at his defens. 
' So chyftaynlik,' scho said, 'as he is seyn, 
In till Inglande, I trow, has nevir beyn. 270 
Wald ye off gold gyff him this rewmys ^^ 

rent, 
Fra honour he will nocht turn his entent. 
Sufferyt we ar, quhill ye may message 

mak; 
Off wys lordis sum part I reid 22 yow tak, 
To purches pees, with outyn wordis mar ; 
For all Ingland may rew his raid f idl sayr. 
Your harroldys als^^ to pass to him has 

leyff, ^ ^ 

In all his ost thar sail no man thaim [ 

greiff.' 
12 generosity. i' that is made. ^* our host shall 
not move at all. is Till. i^ times. i^ nunnery. 
18 repeat, i' please. *" ease, comfort. 21 realm's. 
22 advise. 23 also. 



THE DEATH OF WALLACE 



345 



Than thankit thai the queyn for hir tra- 

vaill; 
The king, and lordis that was off his con- 
saill. 280 

Off hyr ansuer the king applessit was; 
j Than thre gret lordys thai ordand for to 
I pass. 

I Thar consaill haill has fownd it was the best 
j Trewis to tak, or ellis thai get no rest. 



LAMENT FOR WALLACE'S 
CAPTURE 

(XI, 1109-28) 

Allace, Scotland, to quhom sail thow 

compleyn ! 
Allace, fra payn quha sail the now re- 

streyn ! 
Allace, thi help is fastlie brocht to ground, 
Thi best chyftane in braith^ bandis is 

bound ! 
Allace, thow has now lost thi gyd off lycht ! 
Allace, quha sail defend the in thi rycht? 
Allace, thi payn approchis wondyr ner, 
With sorow sone thow men bene ^ set in 

feyr ! 
Thi gracious gyd, thi grettast governour, 
Allace, our ^ neir is cumyn his fatell hour ! 10 
Allace, quha sail the beit^ now off thi 

baill?5 
Allace, quhen sail off harmys thow be haill ? 
Quha sal the defend ? quha sail the now 

mak f re ? 
Allace, in wer quha sail thi helpar be ? 
Quha sail the help ? quha sail the now 

radem ? ^ 
Allace, quha sail the Saxons fra the flem ? "^ 
I can no mar, bot besek God off grace 
The to restor in haist to rychtwysnace;^ 
Sen gud Wallace may siiccour the no mar. 
The loss off him encressit mekill cair. 20 



THE DEATH OF WALLACE 

(XI, 1305-1406) 

On Wednysday the fals Sotheroun furth 

brocht. 
Till martyr him as thai befor had wrocht. 
Rycht suth it is, a martyr was Wallace, 
Als Osauold, Edmunt, Eduuard, and 

Thomas. 

1 violent. * must be. * too. * cure thee. 5 harm. 
c redeem. ^ banish. s righteousness. 



Off men in armes led him a full gret rout. 
With a bauld spreit gud Wallace blent ^ 

about: 
Apreyst he askyt, for God at deit^^ on tre. 
King Eduuard than cummandyt bis clerge. 
And said; *I charge, apayn^i off loss off 

lyve, 
Nane be sa bauld yon tyrand for to 

schryve. 10 

He has rongi2 langin contrarmy hienace.'^^ 
A blyst byschop sone, present in that place, 
Off Canterbery he than was rychtwys lord, 
Agayn the king he maid this rycht record; 
And said; 'My selff sail her his confes- 

sioun, 
Gyff I haiff mycht, in contrar off thi croun. 
And^* thou throu force will stop me off this 

thing, 
I vow to God, quhilk is my rychtwys king, 
That all Ingland I sail her enterdyt, 19 

And mak it knawin thou art ane herretyk. 
The sacrement of kyrk I sail him geiff ; 
Syn 1^ tak thi chos, to sterve ^^ or lat him 

leiff.i^ 
It war mar waill,i^ in worschip off thi croun, 
To kepe sic ane in lyff in thi bandoun,i^ 
Than all the land and gud at thow has 

refyd.2o 
Bot covatice the ay fra honour drefyd.^i 
Thow has thi lyff rongyn ^ in wrangwis 

deid; 
That sail be seyn on the, or on thi seid.' 
The king gert^s charge thai suld the byschop 

ta;24 
Bot sad 2^ lordys consellyt to lat him ga. 30 
All Inglismen said, at his desyr was rycht; 
To Wallace than he rakyt^e in thar sicht, 
And sadly hard his confessioun till ane end. 
Humbly to God his spreyt he thar comend, 
Lawly him servyt with hartlye devocioun 
Apon his kneis, and said ane orysoun. 
His leyff he tuk, and to West monastyr^^ 

raid. 
The lokmen ^s than thai bur Wallace but 

baid29 
On till a place, his martyrdom to tak; 
For till his ded he wald no f orthyr ^^ mak. 40 
Fra the fyrst nycht he was tane in Scotland, 
Thai kepyt him in to that sammyn ^^ band. 

9 looked. 10 who died. " on pain. " reigned. 
13 highness. " if. is then. " perish. " give him 
permission. is avail, advantage. i9 at thy mercy. 
20 robbed. 21 drove. 22 reigned. 23 gave. 24 take. 
25 serious. 26 went. 27 Westminster. 28 execu- 
tioners. 29 bore Wallace without delay. 80 help. 
31 same. 



346 



* BLIND HARRY 



Na thing he had at suld haiff doyn ^ him 

gnd ; 
Bot Inglisinen him servit off carnaill fiid. 
Hys warklly lyff desyrd the sustenance, 
Thocht he it gat in contrar off plesance. 
Thai thirty dayis his band thai durst iiocht 

slaik, 
Quhill he was bundyn on a skamyll off 

ayk,2 
With irn chenyeis ^ that was bath stark and 

keyn. 
A clerk thai set to her quhat he wald 

meyn."^ 50 

* Thow Scot,' he said, ' that gret wrangis 

has don, 
Thi fatell hour, thow seis, approchis son. 
Thow suld in mynd remembyr thi mysdeid, 
At clerkis may, quhen thai thair psalmis 

reid 
For Crystyn sauliis, that makis thaim to 

pray. 
In thair nowmyr ^ thow may be ane off 

thai; 
For now thow seis on fors thou mon de- 
cess.' ^ 
Than Wallace said; 'For all thi roid ra- 

herss," 
Thow has na charge,^ suppos at I did myss; 
Yon blyst bysehop has hecht ^ I sail haiff 

blis; 60 

And I trew weill, at God sail it admyt: 
Thi febyll wordis sail nocht my conscience 

smyt. 
Conford I haiff off way that I suld gang, 
Maist payn I feill at I bid her our lang.' ^^ 
Than said the clerk; ' Our king oft send 

the till; 
Thow mycht haiff had all Scotland at thi 

wHl, 
To hald off him, and cessyt off thi stryff ; 
So as a lord rongyn 11 furth all thi lyff.' 
Than Wallace said; 'Thou spekis off 

mj'chty thing. 
Had I lestyt,i2 and gottyn my rychtwys 

king, 70 

1 that should have done. 2 bench of oak. 3 iron 
chains. « moan. » number. 6 decease. ' rude 
speech. s authority. 9 promised. 10 that I abide 
here too long. n reigned. 12 continued. 



Fra worthi Bruce had rasavit his croun, 
I thocht haiff maid Ingland at his bandouu.^^ 
So uttraly it suld beyn^^ at his will, 
Quhat plessyt him, to sauff thi king or 

spill.' 15 
* Weill,' said the clerk, * than thow repentis 

nocht: 
Off wykkydness thow has a felloun thocht. 
Is nane in warld at has sa mony slane; 
Tharfor till ask, me think thow suld be 

bane,^^ 
Grace off our king, and syn at his bamage.' ^"^ 
Than Wallace smyld a litill at his langage. 80 
' I grant,' he said, ' part Inglismen I slew 
In my quarrel, me thocht nocht haiff enew. 
I mowyt^^ na wer bot for to win our awin;!^ 
To God and man the rycht full weill is 

knawin. 
Thi frustyr"^° wordis dois nocht bot taris me, 
I the commauud, on Goddis haiff, ^i lat me 

be.' 
A schyrray gart ^ this clerk son fra him 

pass; 
Rycht as thai durst, thai grant quhat he 

wald as.23 
A Psaltyr buk Wallace had on him evir; 
Fra his childeid fra it wald nocht desevir.^^ 90 
Bettyr he trowit in viage for to speid. 
Bot than he was dispalyeid '^° off his weid. 
This grace he ast at lord Clyffurd that 

knycht, 
To lat him haiff his Psaltyr buk in sycht. 
He gert a preyst it oppyn befor him hauld, 
Quhill thai till him had done all at thai 

wauld. 
Stedfast he red, for ocht thai did him thar: 
Fey 11 26 Sotheroun said, at Wallace feld na 

sayr.27 
Gud devocioun sa was his begynnyng, 
Couteynd tharwith, and fair was his end- 

yng; 100 

Quhill spech and spreyt at anys all can 

f ayr ^8 
To lestand -^ blyss, we trow, for evirmayr. 

13 in his power. w should have been. is destroy. 
15 ready. i^ then from his baronage. is moved. 

19 owTi. 20 vain. 21 for God's sake. 22 sheriff caused. 
23 ask. 24 part. 25 despoiled. 26 many. «' felt 
no min. 23 did go. 29 lasting. 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 

THE KING'S QUAIRi 



Heigh in the hevynnis figure circulere ^ 
The rody sterres twyuklyng as the f yre ; 

And, in Aquary,^ Cinthia ^ the clere, 
Rynsid hir tressis like the golden wyre, 
That late tofore, in faire and fresche 
atyre, 

Through Capricorn heved hir hornis bright, 

North northward approchitthe myd-uyght;^ 

Quhen, as I lay in bed allone waking, 

New partit ^ out of slepe a lyte tofore," 
Fell me to mynd of many diverse thing, lo 
Off this and that ; can I noght say quhar- 

fore, 
Bot slepe for craft in erth ^ myght I no 
more ; 
For quhich as tho^ coude I no better wyle,i*^ 
Bot toke a boke to rede apon a quhile : 

Off quhich the name is clepit ^^ properly 
Boece,eftere him that was the compiloure, 

Schewing [the] counsele of philosophye, 
Compilit by that noble senatoure 
Off Rome, quhilom ^^ that was the warl- 
dis floure, 

And from estate by fortune [for] a quhile 20 

Forjugit ^'^ was to povert ^^ in exile : 

And there, to here this worthy lord and clerk. 
His metir suete, full of moralitee ; 

His flourit pen so fair he set a-werk, 
Discryvingi^ first of his prosperitee. 
And out of that his infelicitee; 

And than how he, in his poetly report,^^ 

In philosophy can him to confort.^" 

For quhich, (thogh^^ I, in purpose, at my 
boke, 
To borowe a slepe at thilke^^ tyme be- 
gan), 30 

1 book. 2 dome, firmament. ' Aquarius. ^ MS. 
Citherea. s meridian. » roused. ' a little before. 
8 by any earthly means. ' then. 10 knew I no better 
device, n called. 12 once. i3 Condemned. " pov- 
erty. 15 Describing, is narrative, i? did comfort. 
w though. J.9 that. 



Or ever I stent,20 my best was more to loke 
Upon the writing of this noble man, 
That in him-self the full recover wan 
Off his infortune, povert, and distresse. 
And in tham set his verray sekernesse.^i 

And so the vertew of his youth before 
Was in his age the ground of his delytis : 

Fortune the bak him turnyt, and therfore 
He maketh joye and comfort, that he 

quit is 
Off thir unsekir 22 warldis appetitis ; 40 

And so aworth ^^ he takith his penance, 

And of his vertew maid it suffisance : 

With niony a noble resoun, as him likit, 
Enditing in his faire Latyne tong, 

So full of fruyte, and rethorikly pykit,^^ 
Quliich to declare my scole-^ is ouer yong; 
Therefore I lat him pas, and, in my tong,^^ 

Precede I will agayn to my sentence 

Off my mater, and leve all incidence. 

The longe nyght beholding, as I saide, 50 
Myn even gan to smert for studying ; 

My biike I schet, and at my hede it laide ; 
And doun 1 lay bot 2" ony tarying, 
This matere newe in nu' mynd rolling ; 

This is to seyne ^8 how that eche estate, 

As Fortune lykith, thame will [oft] trans- 
late. 

For sothe it is, that, on hir tolter^^ quhele, 

Every wight cleverith in his stage,^*^ 
And failyng f oting oft, quhen hir lest rele,^^ 
Sum up, sum doun, is non estate nor age 60 
Ensured, more the prynce [nor] than 
the page: 
So uncouthly hir werdes ^^ sche devidith, 
Namly 33 in youth, that seildin^^ ought pro- 
vidith. 
20 stopped. 21 security. 22 these uncertain. 23 at 
its value. 24 chosen. 25 skull, brain. 26 own lan- 
guage. 27 without. 28 say. 29 unstable, so clambers 
in his rank. si when she pleases to reel. 52 So 

I strangely her fates. *' Especially. 3^ seldom. 



348 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



1 



Among thir thoughtis rolling to and fro, 
Fell me to mynd of my fortune and 
ure;^ 
In tender youth how sche was first my fo, 
And eft 2 my frende, and how I gat 

recure 
Off my distresse, and all myn aventure 
I gan oure-hayle,^ that langer slepe ne 

rest 
Ne myght I nat, so were my wittis 
wrests 70 

For-wakit and for-walowit,® thus musing, 

Wery, forlyin,^ I lestnyt sodaynlye, 
And sone I herd the bell to matyns ryng, 
And up I rase, no langer wald I lye : 
Bot now, how trowe ye ? suich a fantasye 
Fell me to mynd, that av methoght the 

bell 
Said to me, * Tell on, man, quhat the be- 
fell.' 

Thoght I tho '^ to my-self , * Quhat may this 
be? 
This is myn awin ymagynacioun; 
It is no lyf ^ that spekis unto me ; 80 

It is a bell, or that impressioun 
Off my thoght eausith this illusloun. 
That dooth me think so nycely ^ in this 

wise ;' 
And so befell as I schall you devise.^^ 

Determyt f urth therewith in myn entent, 
Sen I thus have yraagynit of this soun, 

And in my tyme more ink and paper spent 
To lyte effect, I tuke conclusioun 
Sum newe thing to write ; I set me doun, 

And furth-with-all my pen in hand I tuke. 

And maid a »^, and thus begouth^i my 
buke. 91 

Thou [sely] ^^ youth, of nature indegest,^^ 

Unrypit fruyte with windis variable; 
Like to the bird that fed is on the nest. 
And can noght flee; of wit wayke and 

unstable, 
To fortune both and to infortune hable; ^^ 
Wist thou thy payne to cum and thy tra- 

vaille, 
For sorow and drede wele myght thou wepe 
and waille. 

1 luok. 2 afterwards. ' recalled. * tortured. 
8 Worn out with waking and tossing. * tired with 
lying. 7 then. s person. » maketh me think so 
foolishly. 10 describe. " began. 12 innocent. 
*' crude. " liable. 



Thus stant ^^ thy confort in unsekernesse, 
And wantis it that suld the reule and 
gye : ^^ _ _ 100 

Ryght as the schip that sailith stereles " 
Upon the rok[kis] most to harmes hye,^^ 
For lak of it that suld bene hir sup- 
plye;i9 
So standis thou here in this warldis rage. 
And wantis that suld gyde all thy viage.^*^ 

I mene this by my-self, as in partye;^ 
Though nature gave me suffisance 22 in 
youth, 

The rypenesse of resoun lak [it] I 

To governe with my will ; so lyte I couth,^^ 
Quhen stereles to travaile I begouth,^^ 

Amang the wawis of this warld to drive; 

And how the case, anon I will discrive. 112 

With doubtfull hert, amang the rokkis 
blake, 
My feble bote full fast to stere and rowe, 
Helples allone, the wynter nyght I wake, 
To wayte the wynd that furthward suld 

me thro we. ^^ 
O empti saile ! quhare is the wynd suld 
bio we 
Me to the port, quhar gynneth all my 

game ? 
Help, Calyope, and wynd, in Marye name ! 

The rokkis clepe ^^ I the prolixitee 120 

Off doubilnesse that doitli 2' my wittis 
pall : 

The lak of wynd is the deficultee 

In enditing of this lytill trety small : 
The bote I clepe the mater hole of all: 

My wit, unto the saile that now I wynd ^^ 

To seke connyng,^^ though I bot lytill fynd. 

At my begynnyng first I clepe and call 
To yow, Cleo, and to yow, Polymye, 

With Thesiphone,^*^ goddis and sistris all. 
In nowmer ix., as bokis specif ye; 130 

In this processe my wilsum ^^ wittis gye; 

And with your bryght lanternis wele con- 
voye 

My pen, to write my turment and my joye ! 

15 stands, i^ guide, i^ helmless. is must hasten 
to harm. i^ help. 20 voyage. 21 mean this re» 
garding myself, partly. 22 sufficient rank and means. 
23 To govern my will with; so little I could. 24 began. 
25 drive. 26 call. 27 maketh. 23 unfurl. (?) 

29 skill. On this whole passage cf . Chaucer's Troilus, 
Bk. II., Proem. 

30 Tisiphone, a Fury. James, misled by a passage in 
Chaucer's Troilus, takes her for a Muse. 3i wilful. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



349 



In vere,i that full of vertu is and gude, 
Quhen Nature first begynneth hir enprise, 

That quhilum was be cruell frost aud flude 
And schouris scharp opprest in many wy se, 
And Synthius ^ [bejgynneth to aryse 

Heigh in the est — a morow^ soft and 
suete — 

Upward his course to drive in Ariete : 140 

Passit mydday bot foure greis evin,^ 

Off lenth and brede his angel wingis 
bryght 
He spred upon the ground doun fro the 
hevin ; 
That, for gladnesse and confort of the 

sight, 
And with the tiklyng of his hete and 
light, 
The tender flouris opnyt thame and sprad; 
And, in thaire nature, thankit him for glad. 

Noght fere passit the state of innocence, 
& Bot nere about the nowmer of yeris 
W thre,5 

vVere it eausit throu hevinly influence 150 
Off Goddis will, or othir casualtee, 
Can I noght say; bot out of my contree, 
By thaire avise that had of me the cure. 
Be see to pas, tuke I myn aventure. 

Purvait of all that was us necessarye, 
With wynd at will, up airly by the morowe, 
' Streight unto schip, no longere wold we 
tarye, 
The way we tuke, the tyme I tald to- 

forowe ; ^ 
With mony ' fare wele ' and * Sanct lohne 
jj to borowe ' '^ 

] Off falowe and frende; and thus with one 
assent 160 

We puUit up saile, and furth oure wayis 
went. 

Upon the wawis weltering to and fro, 
! So infortunate was us that fremyt ^ day, 

That maugre, playnly, quhethir we wold or 
no. 
With strong hand [as] by f orse, schortly 

to say, 
Off inymyis takin and led away 
We weren all, and broght in thaire contree; 
Fortune it schupe ^ non othir wayis to be. 

1 spring. 2 Cynthius, the sun. s jn the morning. 
* degrees exactly (i.e. one hour). s i.e., about ten 

years old. 6 before. ' for your protection. 

8 strange, hostile. 9 destined. 



Quhare as in strayte ward and in strong 
prisoun, 
So fer-forth,io of my lyf the hevy lyne, 170 

Without confort, in sorowe abandoun. 
The secuud sistere lukit hath to twyne,ii 
Nere by the space of yeris twise nyne; 

Till lupiter his merci list advert,!^ 

And send confort in relesche ^^ of my smert. 

Quhare as in ward full oft I wold bewaille 

My dedely lyf, full of peyne and penance, 

Saing ryght thus, ' Quhat have I gilt, to 

faille 14 

My f redo me in this warld and my ple- 

sance ? 
Sen every wight has thereof suffisance, 
That I behold, and I a creature 181 

Put from all this — hard is myn aventure! 

' The bird, the beste, the fisch eke in the see. 
They lyve in fredome, everich^^ in his 
kynd; 
And I a man, and lakkith libertee; 

Quhat schall I seyne,!^ quhat resoun 

may I fynd. 
That Fortune suld do so ? ' Thus in my 
mynd 
My folk I wold argewe,i" bot all for noght; 
Was non that myght, that on my peynes 
rought.i^ 

Than wold I say, ' Gif ^^ God me had de- 
visit 190 
To lyve my lyf in thraldome thus and 

Quhat was the cause that he [me] more 

comprisit '■^^ 

Than othir folk to lyve in suich ruyne ? 

1 suffer allone amang the figiiris nyne,^! 

Ane wofull wrecche that to no wight may 

spede,22 
And yit of euery lyvis^s help hath nede.' 

The longe dayes and the nyghtis eke 

I wold bewaille my fortune in this wise, 

Forquhich, agane distresse confort to seke, 
My en stum was on mornis for to ryse 200 
Airly as day; O happy exercise ! 

By the come I to joye out of turment. 

Bot now to purpose of my first entent: — 
10 far forward. n i.e., Lachesis, spinner of life's 

thread, has seen to the spinning of mine. 12 pleased 

to turn. 13 relief. 1^ How have I sinned so as to lose. 

15 every one. is say. i' argue with. is recked. 

19 If. 20 included me more. 21 i.e., I am like a 

cipher, of no value to others and needing the help of 

every one. 22 give help. 23 person's. 



3SO 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



Bewailing in my chamber thus allone, 
Despeired of all joye and remedye, 

For-tirit of my thoght/ and wo begone, 
[Un]to the wyudow gan I walk in live, 
To se the waild and folk that went f orby ; ^ 

As for the tyme, though I of mirthis fude 

Myght have no more, to luke it did me 
gude. 210 

Now was there maid fast by the touris wall 
A gardyn faire, and in the corneris set 

Ane herbere^ grene: — with waudis long 
and small 
Railit about; and so with treis set 
Was all the place, and hawthorn hegis knet, 

That lyf ^ was none walking there f orby. 

That myght within scarse ony wight aspye. 

So thik the bewis^ and the leves grene 
Beschadit all the aleyes that there were. 

And myddis every herbere myght be sene 220 
The scharpe grene suete jenepere,^ 
Growing so faire with branchis here and 
there. 

That, as it semyt to a lyf '^ without, 

The bewis spred the herbere all about; 

And on the smalle grene twistis^ sat 
The lytill suete nyghtingale, and song 

So loud and clere, the ympnis^ conseerat 
Off lufisuse,^^ nowsoft,nowlowd among, 
That all the gardyng and the wallis rong 

Ryght of thaire song and of the copilU^ 
next 230 

Off thaire suete armony, and lo the text: 

CANTUS 
' Worschippe, ye that loveris bene, this May, 
For of your blisse the kalendis are be- 
gonne, 
And sing with us, Away, winter, away ! 
Cum, somer, cum, the suete sesoun and 

Sonne ! 
Awake for schame ! that have your bev- 
ynnis wonne. 
And amorously lift up your hedis all, 
Thank lufe that list^ you to his merci call,' 

Quheu thai this song had song a lytill 
thrawe,i-3 
Thai stent 1^ a quhile, and therewith un- 
affraid, 240 

1 Tired out with brooding. 2 past. » shrubbery. 
* person. 5 boughs. ^ juniper. '' person, s twigs. 
« hymns, i" liturgy, n couplet, verse. 12 is pleased. 
1' time. 1* stopped. 



As I beheld and kest myn eyne a-lawe,i^ 
From beugh to beugh thay hippit^^ and 

thai plaid, 
And freschly in thaire birdis kynd arraid 
Thaii'e f etheris new, and fret ^" thame in the 

Sonne, 
And thankit lufe, that had thaire makis^^ 
wonne. 

This was the plane ditee of thaire note, 
And there- with-all unto my-self I thoght, 

' Quhat lyf 19 is this that makis birdis dote ? 
Quhat may this be, how cummyth it of 

ought ? 20 
Quhat nedith it to be so dere ybought ? 250 

It is nothing, trowe I, hot feynit chere, 

And that men list to counterfeten chere.' 

Eft 21 wald I think; '0 Lord, quhat may this 
be? 

That Lufe is of so noble myght and kynde, 
Luting his folk, and suich prosperitee 

Is it of him, as we in bukis fynd? 

May he oure hertes setten— and unbynd ? 
Hath he upon oure hertis suich maistrye ? 
Or all this is bot feynyt fantasye ! 

For gif he be of so grete excellence, 260 

That he of every wight hath cure and 

charge, 

Quhat have I gilt^^ to him or doon offense, 

That I am thrall, and birdis gone at large. 

Sen 2^ him to serve he myght set my 

corage ? 

And gif he be noght so, than may I seyne,^^ 

Quhat makis folk to jangill of him in veyne? 

Can I noght elles fynd, bot gif that he 
Be lord, and as a god may ly ve and regne. 

To bynd and louse, and maken thrallis free. 
Than wold I pray his blisfull grace 
benigne, 270 

To hable^s me unto his service digne;^^ 

And evermore for to be one of tho 

Him trewly for to serve in wele and wo. 

And there-with kest I doun myn eye ageyne, 
Quhare as I sawe, walking imder the toure, 

Full secretly, new curamyn hir to pleyne,^^ 
The fairest or the freschest yonge floure 
That ever I sawe, me thoght, before 

that houre, 
15 below. 16 hopped. i^ adorned. is mates. 

13 person. 20 at all. 21 Again. 22 make fast. 

23 How have I sinned. 24 Since. 25 say. 26 fit. 

27 worthy. 28 play. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



351 



For quhich sodayn abate,i anon astert ^ 
The blude of all my body to my hert. 280 

And though I stude abaisit tho a lyte, 
No wonder was; for-quhy my wittis all 

Were so overcom with plesance and delyte, 
Onely throu lattiiig of myn eyen fall, 
That sudaynly my hert became hir thrall 

For ever, of free will; for of manace 

There was no takyn in hir suete face. 

And in my hede I drewe ryght hastily, 
And eft-sones^ I lent it forth ageyne, 

And sawe hir walk, that verray womanly, 290 
With no wight mo, hot onely wommen 

tueyne. 
Than gan I studye in my-self, and seyne, 

' A ! suete, ar ye a warldly creature. 

Or hevinly thing in likenesse of nature? 

' Or ar ye god Cupidis owin princesse, 
And cummyn are to louse me out of 
band? 
Or ar ye verray Nature the goddesse, 
That have depaynted with your hevinly 

hand 
This gardyn full of flouris, as they stand? 
Quhat sail I think, allace ! quhat reverence 
Sail I min[i]ster to your excellence ? 301 

* Gif ye a goddesse be, and that ye like . 
To do me payne, I may it noght astert;^ 
Gif ye be warldly wight, that dooth me sike,^ 
Quhy lest^ God mak you so, my derrest 

hert, 
To do a sely'^ prisoner thus smert. 
That lufis yow all, and wote ^ of noght bot 

wo ? 
And therefor, merci, suete ! sen it is so.' 

Quhen I a lytill thrawe® had maid my 
moon, 309 

Bewailling myn infortune and my chance, 
Unknawin[g] how or quhat was best to 
doon. 
So ferre I fallen [was] in lufis dance. 
That sodeynly my wit, my contenance, 
My hert, my will, my nature, and my mynd. 
Was changit cleue ryght in an-othir kynd. 

Off hir array the form gif I sail write 
Toward, hir goldin haire and rich atyre 

1 Shock. 2 rushed. ' soon after. < escape. 
5 maketh me sigh. « Why pleased. ^ innocent. 

8 knows. 9 while. 



In fret-wise couchit^^ [were] with perllis 
quhite 
And grete balas lemyng^^ as the fyre, 
With mony ane emeraut and faire saph- 
ire; 320 

And on hir hede a chaplet freseh of hewe, 
Off plumy s partit^ rede, and quhite, and 
blewe; 

Full of quaking spangis bryght as gold, 

Forgit of schap like to the amorettis,!^ 
So new, so freseh, so plesant to behold. 
The plumys eke like to the floure- 

jonettis,^^ 
And othir of schap like to the [round 
crokettis],!^ 
And, above all this, there was, wele I wote, 
Beautee eneuch to mak a world to dote. 

About hir nek, quhite as the fyre amaille,^^ 
A gudely cheyne of smale orfeverye,i" 331 

Quhareby there hang a ruby, without faille, 
Lyke to ane herte sehapin verily, 
That, as a sperk of lowe,!^ so wantonly 

Semyt birnyng upon hir quhyte throte; 

Now gif there was gud partye,i^God it wote! 

And forto walk that fresche Mayes morowe, 
An hiike^o sche had upon hir tissew 21 quhite. 
That gudeliare had noght bene seue to- 
forowe,2-2 
As I suppose ; and girt sche was a lyte. 340 
Thus halflyng^^ louse for haste, to suich 
delyte 
It was to see hir youth in gudelihede. 
That for rudenes to speke thereof I drede. 

In hir was youth, beautee, with humble 

aport,24 

Bountee, richesse, and wommanly fac- 

ture,25 

(God better wote than my pen can report) 

Wisedome, largesse, estate, and cou- 

nyng ^^ sure. 
In every poynt so guydit hir mesure,'-^"' 
In word, in dede, in schap, in contenance. 
That nature myght no more hir childe 
avance. 350 

10 ornamentally trimmed. n rubies glowing. 

12 variegated. i3 Uncertain. Perhaps love-knots. 

14 great St. John'swort. i5 Skeat's conjecture: "a 
sort of curled tuft." MS. repeats " floure-ionettis." 
16 enamel made by fire. i" goldsmith's work. 

18 flame. is a good match. 20 loose upper dress. 
21 garment of rich stuff. 22 before. 23 partly. 

2* demeanor. 25 fashioning. 26 skill. 

27 moderation guided her. 



352 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



Throw quhich anon I knew and understude 
Wele, tliat sche was a warldly creature; 

On qubom to rest myu eye, so mich gude 
It did my wof uU hert, I yow assure, 
That it was to me joye without mesure; 

And, at the last, my luke unto the hevin 

I threwe furthwith, and said thir^ versis 
savin: 

* Venus clere ! of goddis stellifyit ! ^ 

To quhom I yelde homage and sacrifise, 

Fro this day forth your grace be mag- 

nifyit, 360 

That me ressavit have in suich [a] wise, 

To lyve under your law and do servise; 

Now help me furth, and for your merci lede 

My herte to rest, that deis nere for drede.' 

Quhen I with gude entent this orisoun 
Thus endit had, I stynt a lytill stound;^ 

And eft'^ myn eye full pitously adoun 
I kest, behalding unto hir lytill hound, 
That with his bellis playit on the ground ; 

Than wold I say, and sigh there-with a 
lyte, _ 370 

* A ! wele were him that now were in thy 

plyte!' 

An othir quhile the lytill nyghtingale, 

That sat apon tbe twiggis, wold I cbide. 
And say ryght thus, ' Quhare are thy notis 
smale, 
That thou of love has song this morowe- 

tyde ? 
Seis thou noght hire that sittis the be- 
syde? 
For Venus sake, the blisf uU goddesse clere, 
Sing on agane, and mak my lady chere. 

* And eke I pray, for all the paynes grete. 

That, for the love of Proigne ° thy sister 

dere, 380 

Thou sufferit quhilom,^ quhen thy brestis 

wete 

Were with the teres of thyne eyen clere 

All bludy ronne ; that pitee was to here 

The crueltee of that unknyghtly dede, 

Quhare was fro the bereft thy maidenhede, 

*Lift up thyne hert, and sing with gude 

entent; 
And in thy notis suete the treson telle, 
1 these. 2 made a star. 

8 stopped a little space, * afterwards. 

5 Progne, wife of Tereus, changed to a swallow. 
e once upon a time. 



That to thy sister trewe and innocent 
Was kythit' by hir husband false and 

fell; 
For quhois gilt, as it is worthy wel, 390 
Chide thir husbandis that are false, I say. 
And bid thame mend, in the twenty devil 
way,^ 

' O lytill wrecch, allace! maist thou noght se 
Quho commyth yond ? Is it now tyme 
to wring ?^ 

Quhat sory tbognt is fallin upon the? 
Opyntbythrote; hastowno lest^° to sing? 
Allace ! sen thou of reson had felyng, 

Now, suete bird, say ones to me " pepe "; 

I dee for wo; me think thou gynnis slepe. 

'Hastow no mynde of lafe? Quhare is thy 

make ? ^^ 400 

Or artow seke, or smyt with jelousye? 

Or is sche dede, or hath sche the forsake ? 

Quhat is the cause of thy malancolye 

That thou no more list maken melody e ? 

Sluggart, for schame ! lo here thy goldiu 

houre, 
That worth were hale ^ all thy ly vis laboure! 

' Gyf thou suld sing wele ever in thy lyve, 
Here is, in fay,!^ the tyme, and eke the 
space: 
Quhat wostow than ? ^^ sum bird may cum 
and stryve 409 

In song with the, the maistry to purchace. 
Suld thou than cesse, it were grete 
schame, allace ! 
And here, to wyn gree ^^ happily for ever. 
Here is the tyme to syng, or ellis never.' 

I thoght eke thus, gif I my handis clap, 

Or gif I cast,!^ than will sche flee away; 

And gif I hald my pes, than will sche nap; 

And gif I crye, sche wate ^" noght quat I 

say: 
Thus, quhat is best, wate I nought be this 
day: 
Bot blawe wynd, blawe, and do the levis 

schake, 
That sum twig may wag, and make hir to 
wake. 420 

With that anon ryght sche toke up a sang, 
Quhare come anon mo^^ bird is and alight; 

7 shown. 8 in every possible waj'. ^ grieve. 

10 desire, n mate. 12 wholly. i3 in faith. 1^ What 

knowest thou then ? is degree, superiority, le throw 
(anythmg). i? knows. ^^ more. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



353 



Bot than, to here the mirth was tham 
amang, 
Over that to,^ to see the suete sicht 
Off hyr ymage, my spirit was so light, 
Me thoght I flawe^ for joye without arest, 
So were my wittis boundijQ all to fest.^ 

And to the notis of the philomene, 

Quhilkis sche sang, the ditee there I maid 

Direct to hire that was my hertis quene, 430 

Withoutin quhom no songis may me 

glade ; 
And to that sanct, [there] walking in the 
schade, 
My bedis'* thus, with humble hert entere, 
Devotly [than] I said on this manere. 

* Quhen sail your merci rew upon yom* man, 

Quhois service is yit uncouth ^ unto vow ? 
Sen,^ quhen ye go, ther is noght ellis than 
Bot, " Hert ! quhere as " the body may 

noght throu,s 
Folow thy hevin ! Quho sold be glad bot 
thou, 
That suich a gyde to folow has under- 
take ? 440 
Were it throu hell, the way thou noght 
forsake! '"9 

And efter this, the birdis everichone ^'^ 
Tuke up an othir sang full loud and clere, 

And with a^^ voce said, ' Wele is us begone,^ 
That with oure makis are togider here; 
We proyne^^ and play without dout and 
dangere, 

All clothit in a soyte^* full freschand newe, 

In lufis service besy, glad, and trewe. 

* And ye, f resche May, ay mercif ull to bridis,^' 

Now welcum be ye, floure of monethis 
all; 450 

For noght onely your grace upon us bydis, 
Bot all the warld to witnes this we call, 
That strowit hath so playnly over all 
With newe fresche suete and tender grene, 
Oure lyf, oure lust,^^ oure governoure, oure 
queue.' 

This was thair song, as semyt me full heye,^" 
With full mony uncouth suete note and 
schill,i8 

1 Above that too. 2 flew. ' bound all too fast. 

* prayers. ' unknown. ^ Since. " that. s go 
through. 9 refuse thou not. 10 every one. n one. 
" Well is it with us. i3 preen. ^* one suit. 
15 brides. " delight. i" loud. is alirilL 



And therewith-all that faire^^ upward hir 

eye 

Wold cast amang,^'' as it was Goddis will, 

Quhare I myght se, standing allane full 

still, 460 

The faire facture ^i that nature, for mais- 

trye,22 
In hir visage wroght had full lufingly. 

And, quhen sche walkit had a lytill thrawe 
Under the suete grene bewis bent, 

Hir faire fresche face, as quhite as ony 
snawe, 
Scho turnyt has, and f urth hir wayis went; 
Bot tho began myn axis-^ and turment. 

To seue hir part,-"* and folowe I na myght; 

Me thoght the day was turnyt into nyght. 

Than said I thus, ' Quhare[un]to lyve I 

langer ? 470 

Wof uUest wicht, and subject unto peyne ! 

Of peyne? no ! God wote, ya: for thay no 

stranger 

May wirken^^ ony wight, I dare wele 

seyne. 
How may this be, that deth and lyf, bothe 
tueyne. 
Sail bothe atonis ^ in a creature 
Togidder duell, and turment thus nature ? 

* I may noght ellis done bot wepe and waile, 

With-in thir calde wallis thus i-lokin;^' 
From hennesfurth my rest is my travaile; 
My drye thrist with teris sail I slokin,-^ 4S0 
And on my-self bene al my harmys 
wrokiu:^^ 
Thus bute^ is none; bot^^ Venus, of hir 

grace. 
Will schape ^ remede, or do my spirit pace.^ 

' As Tantalus I travaile, ay but-les,^ 

That ever ylike hailith at the well 
Water to draw with buket botemles. 

And may noght spede; quhois penance is 
an hell: 

So by *5 my-self this tale I may wele telle, 
For unto hir that herith noght, I pleyne; 
Thus like to him my travaile is in veyne.' 490 

So sore thus sighit I with ray-self allone, 
That turnyt is my strenth in febilnesse, 

19 fair one. *" at times. 21 feature, aspect. ^- as 
a masterpiece. 23 access of fever. -^ see her depart. 
25 affect. 25 at once. 2" locked. 25 slake. 

29 wreaked. ^o remedy. '^ unless. ^- prepare. 
33 make my spirit pass. 3i bootless. 35 regarding. 



354 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



My wele in wo, my frendis all in fone,^ 
My lyf in deth, my lyght into dirknesse, 
My hope in feere, in dout my sekirnesse; 

Sen sche is gone : and God mote ^ hir con- 
voye, 

That me may gyde to turment and to joye ! 

The long[e]day thus gan I prye and poure, 
Till Phebus endit had his hemes bryght, 

And bad go f arewele every lef and floure, 500 
This is to say, approch[en] gan the nyght. 
And Esperus his lampis gan to light; 

Quhen in the wyndow, still as any stone, 

I bade ^ at lenth, and, kneling, maid my 
mone. 

So lang till evin, for lak of myght and 
mynd, 
For-wepit and f or-pleynit * pitously, 
Ourset so sorow had bothe hert and mynd. 
That to the colde stone my hede on 

wrye ^ 
I laid, and lent, amaisit verily, 
Half sleping and half suoun, in suich a 
wise: 510 

And quhat I met,^ I will you now devise. 

Me thoght that thus all sodeynly a lyght 
In at the wyndow come quhare that I 
lent. 
Off quhieh the chambere-wyndow schone 
full bryght. 
And all my body so it hath ouerwent. 
That of my sicht the vertew hale iblent; '^ 
And that with-all a voce unto me saide, 
* I bring the confort and hele,^ be noght 
affrayde.' 

And furth anon it passit sodeynly, 

Quhere it come in, the ryghte way 
ageyne, 520 

And sone, me thoght, furth at the dure in 
hye9 
I went my weye, nas nothing me ageyne ;i° 
And hastily, by bothe the armes tueyne, 
I was araisit up in-to the aire, 
Clippit^i in a cloude of cristall clere and 
faire. 

Ascending upward ay fro spere to spere, 
Through aire and watere and the hote 

fyre, 
1 foes. 2 may. s abode. * Worn out with 

weeping and complaining. b awry. 6 dreamed. 

7 wholly blinded. 8 healing. ^ haste. 10 there 

was nothing hindering me. 11 Enclosed. 



Till that I come unto the circle clere 

Off Signifere,!^ quhare faire, bryght, and 

schire,^^ 
The signis schone; and in the glade em- 
pire 530 
Off blisf ull Venus, [quhar] ane cryit now 
So sudaynly, almost I wist noght how. 

Off quhieh the place, quhen [as] I com 
there nye, 
Was all, me thoght, of cristall stonis 
wroght, 
And to the port I liftit was in hye, 

Quhare soday nly, as quho sais ^^ at a thoght, 
It opnyt, and I was anon in broght 
Within a chamber, large, rowm,^^ and faire; 
And there I fand of peple grete repaire.^^ 

Tliis is to seyne, that present in that place 
Me thoght I sawe of every nacioun 541 

Loveris that endit [had] thaire lyfis space 
In lovis service, mony a mylioun, 
Off quhois chancis ^" maid is mencioun 

In diverse bukis, quho thame list to se; 

And therefore here thaire namys lat I be. 

The quhois aventure and grete labouris 
Aboue thaire hedis writin there I fand; 

This is to seyne, martris and confessouris, 
Ech in his stage,^^ and his make ^^ in his 
hand; 550 

And therewith-all thir peple sawe I stand, 

With mony a solemp[ni]t contenance, 

After 20 as luf e thame lykit to avance. 

Off gude folkis, that faire in lufe befill,^! 

There saw I sitt in order by thame one 22 
With hedis hore; and with thame stude 
Gude-will 
To talk and play ; and after that anon 
Besydis thame and next there saw I gone ^^ 
Curage, amang the fresche folkis yong. 
And with thame playit full merily and 
song. 560 

And in ane othir stage, endlong ^4 the wall. 
There saw I stand, in capis wyde and lang, 

A full grete nowmer; hot thaire hudis all. 
Wist I noght quhy, atoure '^ thair eyen 

hang; 
And ay to thame come Repentance amang,^^ 

12 i.e., the sphere of the zodiac. is clear. 1* as 
one may say. is spacious. i^ throng. i^ fortunes. 
18 place. 19 mate. 20 According. 21 were fortunate 
in love. 22 by themselves. 2^ go. 24 along. 25 over. 
26 at times : or perhaps here in modern sense. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



355 



And maid thame chere, degysit in his wede : ^ 
And dounward efter that yit I tuke hede; 

Kyght overthwert ^ the chamber was there 
drawe 
A trevesse ^ thin and quhite, all of ples- 
ance, 569 

The quhich behynd, standing, there I sawe 
A warld of folk, and by thaire contenance 
Thaire hertis semyt full of displesance, 
With billis ^ in thaire handis, of one assent 
Unto the juge thaire playntis to present. 

And there- with-all apperit unto me 

A voce, and said, ' Tak hede, man, and 
behold: 
Yonder thou seis the hiest stage and gree^ 
Off agit folk, with hedis hore and olde ; 
Tone were the folke that never change 
wold 
In lufe, hot trewly servit him alway, 580 
In every age, unto thaire ending-day. 

*For fro the tyme that thai coud understand 
The exercise,^ of lufis craft the cure, 

Was non on ly ve '' that toke so moch on hand 
For lufis sake, nor langer did endure 
In lufis service; for, man, I the assure, 

Quhen thay of youth ressavit had the fill, 

Yit in thaire age tham lakkit no gude will. 

* Here bene also of suich as in counsailis 589 

And all thar dedis, were to Venus trewe ; 
Here bene the princis, faucht the grete ba- 
tailis, 
In mynd ^ of quhom ar maid the bukis 

newe; 
Here ben the poetis that the sciencis 
knewe, 
Throwout the warld, of lufe in thaire suete 

layes, 
Suich as Ovide and Omere in thaire dayes. 

And efter thame down in the nexte stage, 
There as ^ thou seis the yonge folkis 
pleye: 
Lo ! thise were thay that, in thaire myddill 
age, 
Servandis were to lufe in mony weye, 
And diversely happinnit for to deye; 600 
Sum sorouf ully, for wanting of thare makis,^" 
And sura in armes for thaire ladyes sakis. 

1 disguised in dress. 2 across. 3 curtain. 

* petitions. 5 degree. « practice. ^ alive. § mem- 
ory. 9 Where. 10 mates. 



' And othir eke by othir diverse chance, 
As happin folk all day, as ye may se; 

Sum for dispaire, without recoverance; 
Sum for desyre, surmounting thaire de- 
gree; 
Sum for dispite and othir inmytee; 

Sum for unkyndenes without a quhy;ii 

Sum for to moch, and sum for jelousye. 

* And efter this, upon yone stage adoun, 6ro 

Tho that thou seis stond in capis wyde ; 
Yone were qubilum^ folk of religioun, 
That from the warld thaire governance ^^ 

did hide. 
And frely servit lufe on every syde 
In secrete, with thaire bodyis and thaire 

gudis. 
And lo ! quhy so thai hingen doun thaire 
hudis : 

' For though that thai were hardy at assay ,1^ 

And did him service quhilum prively, 
Yit to the warldis eye it semyt nay; 619 
So was thaire service half[del] cow- 

ardy : ^^ 
And for thay first forsnke him opynly, 
And efter that thereof had repenting, 
For schame thaire hudis oure thaire eyne 
thay hyng. 

*And seis thou now yone multitude, on 

rawe,^^ 

Standing, behynd yone traverse of delyte? 

Sum bene of tham that haldin were full la we. 

And take by frendis, nothing thay to 

wyte," 

In youth from lufe into the cloistere quite ; 

And for that cause are cunimyu recounsilit,^^ 

On thame to pleyne that so tham had be- 

gilit. 630 

* And othir bene amongis thame also. 

That cummyn ar to court, on lufe to 
pleyne, ^^ 
For he thaire bodyes had bestowit so, 
Quhare bothe thaire hertes gruch[eu] 

ther-ageyne ; ^o 
For quhich, in all thaire dayes, soth to 
seyne,"-^! 
Quhen othir lyvit in joye and [in] pleasance, 
Thaire lyf was noght hot care and repent- 
ance; 
11 a why, a reason. 12 once, i' conduct. ^* stout 
in trial. is half cowardice. i6 in a row. i' blame. 
13 restored (to their mates). i9 complain. 20 repined 
against it. 21 truth to say. 



3S6 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



• And, quhare ^ thaire hertis gevin were and 
set, 
Coplit with othir thatcoud noght accord; 
Thus were thai wrangit that did no forfet,^ 
Departing 8 thame that never wold dis- 
cord; 641 
Off yonge ladies faire, and mony lord. 
That thus by maistry were fro thair chose 

dryve,^ 
Full redy were thaire playntis there to 
gyve/ 

And othir also I sawe compleynyng there 

Upon Fortune and hir grete variance, 
That quhere in love so wele they coplit 
were, 
With thaire suete makis coplit in ples- 

ance, 
Sehe sodeynly maid thaire disseverance. 
And tuke thame of this warldis com- 
panye, 650 

Withoutin cause, there was non othir quhy.^ 

And in a chiere of estate besyde, 

With wingis bright, all plumyt hot his 
face. 
There sawe I sitt the blynde god Cupide, 
With bow in hand, that bent full redy 

was. 
And by him hang thre arowis in a cas, 
Off quhich the hedis grundyn were full 

ryght. 
Off diverse metals forgit faire and bryght. 

And with the first, that hedit is of gold. 

He smytis soft, and that has esy cure ; 660 
The secund was of silver, mony fold 

Wers than the first, and harder aven- 

ture;^ 
The thrid, of stele, is sehot without re- 
cure;"^ 
And on his longe yalow lokkis schene ^ 
A chaplet had he all of levis grene. 

And in a retrete lytill of compas, 

Depeyntit^ all with sighis wonder sad, 

Noght suich sighis as hertis doith man- 
ace i*^ 
Bot suich as dooth^^ lufaris to be glad, 
Fond I Venus upon hir bed, that had 670 

A mantill cast over hir schuldris quhite: 

Thus clothit was the goddesse of delyte. 
1 whereas. 2 misdeed. 3 Separating. 4 driven 

from their choice. 6 reason. 6 fortune. ^ recovery. 

8 bright. 9 Painted. i" doth menace hearts. 

11 causeth. 



Stude at the dure Fair-calling, hir uschere, 
That coude his office doon in connyng wise, 
And Secretee, hir thrifty chamberere. 
That besy was in tyme to do servise. 
And othir mo^^ that I can noght (on) 
aviso ; ^^ 
And on hir hede, of rede rosis full suete, 
A chapellet sche had, faire, fresch, and 
mete.14 

With quaking hei-t astonate of that sight, 
Unnethis^^ wist I quhat that I suld seyne; 

Bot at the laste febily, as I myght, 682 

With my handis on bothe my kneis tueyne. 
There I begouth^^ my caris to compleyne; 

With ane humble and lamentable chere 

Thus salute I that goddesse bryght and clere ; 

* Hye Queue of Luf e! sterre of benevolence ! 

Pitouse princes, and planet merciable!" 

Appesare of malice and violence! 689 

By vertew pure of your aspectis hable,i^ 

Unto youre grace lat now ben acceptable 

My pure request, that can no forthir gone 

To seken help, bot unto yow allone! 

* As ye that bene the socoure and suete well 

Off remedye, of carefuU hertes cure. 
And, in the huge weltering wawis fell 

Off lufis rage, blisfuU havin and sure; 

O anker and keye of our gude aventure, 
Ye have your man with his gude will con- 



quest ; ^ 



699 



Merci, therefore, and bring his hert to rest I 

'Ye knaw the cause of all my peynes smert 
Bet than my-self, and all myn aventure 

Ye may convoye, and as yow list, convert 
The hardest hert that formyt hath nature; 
Sen in your handis all hale 20 lyith my cure, 

Have pitee now, O bryght blisfuU goddesse, 

Off your pure man,^! and rew on his dis- 
tresse! 

* And though I was unto your lawis strange, 
By ignorance, and noght by felonye, 

And that your grace now likit hath to 
change 710 

My hert, to serven yow perpetualye. 
Forge ve all this, and shapith^^ remedye 

To saven me of your benigne grace. 

Or do me sterven^^ furth-with in this place. 
12 more. -3 describe. 1* becoming, is Scarcely. 

16 began. i' merciful. is powerful. is conquered. 

20 wholly. 21 poor servant. 22 prepare. 23 make 

me die. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



357 



* And with the stremes of your percyng lyght 

Convoy my hert, that is so wo-begone, 

Ageyne unto that suete hevinly sight, 

That I, within the wallis cald as stone, 

So suetly saw on morow ^ walk and gone. 

Law in the gardyn, ryght tof ore myn eye : 

Now, merci, Quene ! and do me noght to deye.' 

Thir wordis said, my spirit in dispaire, 722 
A quhile I stynt, abiding ef ter grace : 2 

And there-with-all hir cristall eyen faire 
Sche kest asyde, and ef ter that a space, 
Benignely sche turnyt has hir face 

Towardis me full pleasantly conveide; 

And unto me ryght in this wise sche seide: 

* Yong man, the cause of all thyne inward 

sorowe 
Is noght unknawin to my deite, 730 

And thy request, bothe now and eke to- 
forowe,^ 
Quhen thou first maid professioun to me; 
Sen of my grace I have inspirit the 
To knawe my lawe, contynew f urth, for oft, 
There as I mynt^ full sore, I smyte bot soft. 

* Paciently thou tak thyne aventure, 

This wilP my sone Cupide, and so will I. 
He can the stroke, to me langis^ the cure 
Quhen I se tyme; and therefor hnmily 
Abyde, and serve, and lat Gude Hope the 
gye:^ 740 

Bot, for I have thy forehede here present, 
I will the schewe the more of mya entent. 

* This is to say, though it to me pertene 

In lufis lawe the septre to governe. 
That the efPectis of my hemes schene 

Has thaire aspectis by ordynance eterne, 
With otheris byndand menes, to discerne 
Quhilutn in thingis bothe to cum and gone. 
That langis noght to me to writh allone;^ 

* As in thyne awin case now may thou se, 750 

For-quhy^ lo, that [by] otheris influence 
Thy persone standis noght in libertee; 
Quharefore, though I geve the benevo- 
lence. 
It standis noght yit in myn advertence,^*^ 

1 in the morning. 2 stopped, waiting to find grace. 

' formerly. * Where I make show of striking. 

5 wishes. s belongs ' guide thee. 

8 The effects of my shining beams have, bj' eternal 
ordinance, their influences bound up with others; it is 
mine to discern at times things both future and past, 
which yet it is not my function to direct alone. 

^ Because. ^<^ control. 



Till certeyne coursis endit be and ronne, 
Quhill^i of trew servis thow have hir graice 
i-wone. 

* And yit, considering the nakitnesse 

Bothe of thy wit, thy persone, and thy 
myght. 
It is no mach, of thyne unworthynesse 
To hir hie birth, estate, and beautee 
bryght: 760 

Als like ye bene as day is to the nyght; 
Or sek-cloth is unto fyne cremesye,^ 
Or doken^^ to the fresche dayesye. 

' Unlike the mone is to the sonne schene ; 

Eke lanuarye is [un]like to May; 
Unlike the cukkow to the phylomene ; ^^ 

Thaire tabartis ^^ ar noght bothe maid of 
array ; ^^ 

Unlike the crow is to the pape-iay;i" 768 
Unlike, in goldsmythis werk, a fischis eye 
To preise ^^ with peril, or maked be so heye. 

* As I have said, [now] unto me belangith 

Specialy the cure of thy seknesse; 

Bot now thy matere so in balance hangith, 

That it requerith to thy sekernesse ^'■^ 

The help of othir mo that bene goddes, 

And have in thame the menes and the lore, 

In this matere to schorten with thy sore.^^ 

* And for thou sail se wele that I entend 

Un-to thy help, thy welefare to preserve. 
The streighte weye thy spirit will I send 780 
To the goddesse that clepit is Mynerve, 
And se that thou hir hestis wele con- 
serve,2i 
For in this case sche may be thy supplye,22 
And put thy hert in rest, als wele as I. 

' Bot, for the way is uncouth 23 unto the, 
There as hir duelling is and hir sojurne, 

I will that Gude Hope servand to the be, 
Youre alleris-^ frend, to let the to murn,^^ 
Be thy condyt and gyde till thou returne, 

And hir besech that sche will, in thy nede, 

Hir counsele geve to thy welefare and 
spede; 791 

* And that sche will, as langith hir office, 

Be thy gude lady, help and counseiloure, 

11 Until. 12 crimson cloth. " dock. » nightingale. 
15 coats. 16 of one pattern. i^ parrot. is value. 
MS. prerese. i^ security. 20 to shorten thy woe with, 
21 keep her commands well. 22 help. 23 unknown. 
24 Of you all. 25 to prevent thy mourning. 



3S8 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



And to the schewe hir rype and gude 
avise, 
Throw quhich thou may, be processe and 

laboiire, 
Atteyne unto that glad and goldyn floure, 
That thou wald have so fayn with all thy 

hart. 
And forthir-more, sen thou hir servand art, 

*Quhen thou descendis doun to ground 
ageyne. 
Say to the men that there bene resident. 
How long think thay to stand in my dis- 
deyne, 8or 

That in my lawis bene so negligent 
From day to day, and list tham noght 
repent, 
Bot breken louse, and walken at thaire 

large ? ^ 
Is nocht eft none that thereof gevis 
charge ? ^ 

*And for,' quod sche, 'the angir and the 
smert 
Off thaire unkyndenesse dooth me cou- 
streyne 
My femynyne and wofnll tender hert, 
That than I wepe; and, to a token pleyne. 
As of my teris cummyth all this reyne. 
That ye se on the ground so fast ybete Sn 
Fro day to da}^, my turment is so grete. 

* And quhen I wepe, and stynt anothir 

quhile,^ 
For pacience that is in womanhede, 
Than all my wrath and rancoure I exile ; 
And of my cristall teris that bene schede. 
The hony flouris growen up and sprede. 
That preyen men, [as] in thaire flouris 

wise,^ 
Be trewe of lufe, and worschip my servise. 

* And eke, in takin of this pitouse tale, 820 

Quhen so my teris dropen on the ground. 
In thaire nature the lytill birdis smale 
Styntith thaire song, and murnyth for 

that stound ; ^ 
And all the lightis in the hevin round 
Off my grevance have suich compacience,^ 
That from the ground they hiden thaire 
presence. 

1 at large. 

2 Is there not even one that gives heed to this ? Per- 
haps eft (= again) should be left. 

3 again cease. < in their flower fashion. 
5 space of time. « compassion. 



' And yit in tokenyng forthir of this thing, 
Quhen flouris springis and freschest bene 
of he we. 
And that the birdis on the twistis sing. 
At thilke tyme ay gynnen folk renewe 
That servis unto love, as ay is dewe, 831 
Most ' commonly has ay his observance. 
And of thaire sleuth tofore ^ have repent- 
ance. 

* Thus maist thou seyne, that myn effectis 

grete. 
Unto the quhich ye aughten maist weye,^ 
No lyte^o offense, to sleuth is [al] forget ^^r 
And therefore in this wise to tham seye. 
As I the here have bid [den], and con- 
veye 
The matere all the better tofore '^ said; 
Thus sail on the my charge bene ilaid. 840 

' Say on than, " Quhare is becummyn, for 
schame ! 
The songis new, the fresch carolis and 
dance, 
The lusty lyf, the mony change of game. 
The fresche array, the lusty contenance, 
The besy awayte,^^ the hertly observ- 
ance. 
That quhilum was amongis thame so ryf ? " 
Bid tham repent in tyme, and mend thare 

lyf: 

* Or I sail, with my fader old Saturne, 

And with al hale^^ oure he\'inly alliance, 

Oure glad aspectis from thame writh^^ and 

turne, 850 

That all the warld sail waile thaire gov- 

ernauce.i^ 
Bid thame betyme that thai have re- 
pentance, 
And [with] thaire hertis hale renew my 

lawe ; 
And I my hand fro beting sail withdrawe. 

' This is to say, contynew in my servise, 
Worschip my law, and my name mag- 
nifye, 

That am your hevin and your paradise ; 
And I your confort here sail multiplye, 
And, for your meryt here, perpetualye 

Ressave I sail your saulis, of my grace, 860 

To lyve with me as goddis in this place.' 
7 Supply wTio before tnosl. s former. » ought 

most to pay regard. 10 little. " for sloth is all 

forgotten. 12 before. i3 eager service. 1* all whole. 

15 direct. 16 bewail their conduct. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



359 



With humble thank, and all the reverence 
That feble wit and comiyngi may at- 
teyne, 

I tuke my leve; and from hir [hy] presence, 
Gude Hope and I to-gider, bothe tueyne, 
Departit are, and, schortly for to seyne,^ 

He hath me led [the] redy wayis ryght 

Unto Minervis palace, faire and brygbt. 

Qnhare as I fand, full redy at the yate,^ 

The maister portare, eallit Pacience, 870 
That frely lete us in, unquestionate ; 

And there we sawe the perfyte excel- 
lence, 
The said renewe,^ the state, the rever- 
ence, 
The streuth, the beautee, and the ordour 

digne ^ 
Off hir court riall, noble, and benigne. 

And straught unto the presence sodeynly 

Off dame Minerve, the pacient goddesse, 
Gude Hope my gyde led me redily; 

To quhom anon, vrith dredefull humyl- 

nesse,^ 
Off my cummyng the cause I gan ex- 
presse, 880 

And all the processe hole, unto the end, 
Off Venus charge, as likit hir to send. 

Off quhich ryght thus hir ansuere was in 
bref : 
' My son, I have wele herd, and under- 
stond, 
Be thy reherse, the matere of thy gref. 
And thy request to procure, and to 

fonde '^ 
Off thy pennance ^ sum confort at my 
bond. 
Be counsele of thy lady Venus clere. 
To be with hir thyne help in this matere. 

* Bot in this case thou sail wele knawe and 

witt, 890 

Thou may thy herte ground on suich a 
wise, 
That thy laboure will be bot lytill quit ; ^ 
And thou may set it in [an]othir wise. 
That wil be to the grete worschip and 
prise; 
And gif thou durst unto that way enclyne, 
I will the geve my lore and disciplyne. 
1 skill. 2 shortly to say. » gate. 

4 Unsatisfactorily explained as " grave renewal." 

5 dignified. 6 timorous humility. ^ seek. 
8 Buffering. » requited. 



*Lo, my gude sone,this is als mich to seyne,!*^ 
As, gif thy lufe [be] sett all uterly 

On nyce lust,ii thy travail is in veyne; 
And so the end sail turne of thy folye 900 
To payne and repentance; lo, wate thou 
quhy? 12 

Gif the ne list thy lufe on^^ vertew set, 

Vertu sail be the cause of thy forfet.^^ 

' Tak him before in all thy governance. 

That in his hand the stere 1° has of you all ; 
And pray unto his hye purveyances^ 

Thy lufe to gye, and on him traist and call, 
That corner-stone and ground is of the 
wall 
That failis noght; and trust, withoutin 

drede. 
Unto thy purpose sone he sail the lede. 910 

' For lo, the werk that first is foundit sure, 
May better here a pace ^' and hyare be 

Than othir wise, and laugere sail endure 
Be monyfald, this may thy resoun see. 
And stronger to defend ^^ adversitee: 

Ground [thou] thy werk, therefore, upon the 
stone. 

And thy desire sail forthward with the gone. 

* Be trewe, and meke, and stedfast in thy 

thoght, 

And diligent hir merci to procure, 919 

Noght onely in thy word; for word is noght, 

Bot gif 1^ thy werk and all thy besy cure ^'^ 

Accord thereto, and utrid be mesure 21 

The place, the houre, the maner, and the 

wise; 
Gif Mercy sail admitten thy servise. 

' " All thing has tyme," thus sais Ecclesiaste ; 

And wele is hun that his tyme wel abit.22 

Abyde thy time; for he that can bot haste 

Can noght of hap,'-3 the wise man it writ; 

And oft gude fortune flourith with gude 

wit: 

Quharefore, gif thou will [ay] be wele for- 

tunyt, 930 

Lat wisedora ay [un]to thy will be junyt.^^ 

' Bot there be mony of so brukill ^5 sort. 
That feynis treuth in lufe for a quhile, 

10 as much as to say. ^i on foolish desire. 12 know 
thou why. 13 MS. 07i lufe thy. 1* disaster, is con- 
trol. '■^ providence. i^ step, stage C?). is resist. 
19 Unless. 20 care. 21 and let the place, etc., be 
stated with moderation. 22 abideth. 23 Controls not 
fortune. 24 joined. 25 brittle, unreliable. 



360 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



And setten all thaire wittis and disport ^ 
The sely innocent woman to begyle, 
And so to Wynne thaire lustis witli a wile; 
Suich feynit treuth is all bot trechorye, 
Under the umbre ^ of hid ypocrisye. 

*For as the foulere quhistlith in his throte 
Diversely, to counterfete the brid, 940 

And feynis mony a suete and strange note, 
That in the busk ^ for his desate ^ is hid, 
Till sche be fast lokin his net amyd ; 

Ryght so the fatoure,^ the false theif, I say. 

With suete tresoun oft wynnith thus his 
pray. 

* Fy on all suich ! fy on thaire doubilnesse ! 

Fy on thaire lust and bestly appetite ! 
Thaire wolfis hertis, in lambis liknesse; 

Thaire thoughtis blak, hid under wordis 
qnhite; ^49 

Fy on thaire laboure ! fy on thaire delyte! 
That f eynen outward all to hir honour. 
And in thaire hert hir worschip ^ wold de- 



* So hard it is to trusten now on dayes 

The warld, it is so double and inconstant. 
Off quhich the suth is kid be mony assay es ; "^ 
More pitee is ; for quhich the remanant 
That menen wele and ar noght variant 
For otheris gilt ar ^ suspect of un treuth. 
And hyndrit oft, and treuely that is reuth. 

*Bot gif the hert be groundit ferm and stable 
In Goddis law, thy purpose to atteyne. 

Thy laboure is to me [ful] agreable; '^^^ 
And my full help, with counsele trew and 

pleyne, 
I will the schewe, and this is the certeyne ; 

Opyn thy hert, therefore, and lat me se 

Gif thy remede be pertynent to me.' ^ 

* Madame,' quod I, * sen it is your plesance 

That I declare the kynd of my loving, 

Treuely and gude, withoutin variance, 

Ji^ lufe that floure abufeall othir thing; 

And wold bene he that to hir worschip- 

ping ^''1 

Myght ought availe, be Him that starf on 

rude,^i 
And nouthir spare for travaile, lyf, nor 
" 12 



1 delight. 2 shade, s bush. « deceit. 5 deceiver. 

« honor. '' the truth is shown by many proofs. 

8 MS. and. » is my affair. " MS. In. " died 

on cross. 12 goods. 



' And forthirmore, as touching the nature ' 

Off my lufing, to worschip or to blame, 

I darre wele say, and there-in me assure. 
For ony gold that ony wight can name 
Nald 1^ I be he that suld of hir gude fame 

Be blamiscliere in ony point or wyse. 

For wele nor wo, quhill my lyf e may suffise.^^ 

* This is theffect^^ trewly of myn entent, ^®i 

Touching the suete that smertis me so 
sore, 
Giff this be faynt,^^ I can it noght repent, 
All though my lyf suld forfaut be there- 
fore. 
Blisful princes ! I can seye you no more; 
Bot so desire my wittis dooth compace,^'' 
More joy in erth kepe ^^ I noght bot your 
grace.' 

* Desire,' quod sche, ' I nyl it noght deny,^^ 

So thou it ground and set in Cristin wise; 
And therefore, son, opyn thy hert playnly.' 
' Madame,' quod I, ' trew withoutin fan- 

tise,20 ggi 

That day sail never be I sail up-rise 
For my delyte to covate the plesance 
That may hir worschip 21 putten in balance. 22 , 

' For ovre all thing, lo, this were ray glad- 
nesse, 
To sene the fresche beautee of hir face; 
And gif I myght deserve, be processe,^^ 
For my grete lufe and treuth, to stond in 

grace, 
Hir worschip sauf,^^ lo, here the blisfull 
cace 25 
That I wold ask, and there [un]to at- 
tend ,2^ 1000 
For my most joye unto my lyfis end.' 

* Now wele,' quod sche, * and sen ^ that it 

is so, 
That in vertew thy lufe is set with treuth. 
To helpen the I will be one of tho 

From henesforth, and hertly without 

sleuth, 
Off thy distresse and excesse to have 
reuth ; 
That has thy hert , I will [hir] pray full 

faire. 
That Fortune be no more thereto contraire. 

13 "Would not. MS. Wald. i« endure. is gist. 

16 feigned (fault ?). 1 7 overwhelm. is care for. 

19 say it nay. 20 truly without deceit. 21 honour. 
22 jeopardy. 23 in course of time. 24 Her honoiir 
safe. 25 lot. 26 expect, wait for. 27 since. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



361 



* For suth it is, that all ye creaturis 

Quhich under us beneth have your duel- 
lyng, loio 

Ressaven diversely your aventuris, 

Off quhieh the cure and priucipall mellingi 
Apperit is,^ withoutin repellyng,^ 
Onely to hir that has the cuttis ^ two 
In hand,^ bothe of your wele and of your wo. 

* And how so be [it] that sum clerkis trete, 

That all your chance ^ causit is tofore 
Heigh in the hevin, by quhois effectis grete 
Ye movit are to wrething" lesse or more, 
Thar^ in the warld, thus calling that 
therefore 1020 

" Fortune," and so that the diversitee 
Off thaire wirking suld cause necessitee; 

* Bot othir clerkis halden that the man 

Has in him-self the chose ^ and libertee 
To cause his awin fortune, how or quhan 
That him best lest, and no necessitee 
Was in the hevin at his nativitee, 
Bot yit the thingis happin in commune ^^ 
Ef ter purpose, so cleping thame " Fortune." 

And quhare a persone has tofore knawing ^1 
Off it that is to fall[en] purposely, 103 1 

Lo, Fortime is bot wayke in suich a thing. 
Thou may wele wit, and here ensample 

quhy; 
To God, that is the first[e] cause onely 

Off every thing, there may no fortune fall: 

And quhy ? for he foreknawin is ^^ of all. 

* And therefore thus I say to this sentence; 

Fortune is most and strangest ^^ evermore, 
Quhare lest ^^ foreknawing or intelligence 
Is in the man; and, sone, of wit or lore 
Sen thou are wayke and feble, lo, there- 
fore, 1041 
The more thou art in dangere ^^ and com- 
mune 1^ 
With hir that clerkis clepen so Fortune. 

* Bot for the sake, and at the reverence 

Off Venus clere, as I the said tofore, 
I have of thy distresse compacience ; i" 
And in confort and releschei^ of thy sore, 
The schewit [have] here myn avise there- 
fore; 

* guidance {lit. meddling). 2 Appertains. ' recall. 
4 lots. 6 i.e., Fortune, e fate, i action. 8 MS. Qii- 
hare. » choice, i" ordinarily, n previous knowledge. 
12 previously aware. i3 strongest, n least, is in the 
]power. 16 allied. ^^ compassion, is assuagement. 



Pray Fortune help, for mich unlikly thing 
Full oft about sche sodeynly dooth bring. 

'Now go thy way, and have gude mynde 
upon 105 1 

Quhat I have said in way of thy doc- 
try ne.' 19 
'I sail, madame,' quod I; and ryht anon 
I tuke my le ve : — als straught as ony lyne, 
With-in a heme, that fro the contree^o 
dyvine 
Sche, percyng throw the firmament, ex- 

tendit. 
To ground ageyne my spirit is descendit. 

Quhare, in a lusty plane,^! tuke I my way, 
Eudlang^ a ryver, plesant to behold, 

Enbroudin ^^ all with fresche flouris gay, 
Quhare, throu the gravel, bryght as ony 
gold, 1061 

The cristall water ran so clere and cold, 

That, in myn ere maid contynualy 

A maner soun, mellit-^ with armony; 

That full of lytill fischis by the brym, 
Now here, now there, with bakkis blewe 
as lede, 

Lap '^ and playit, and in a rout can swym 
So prattil y, and dressit ^^ tham to sprede 
Thaire curall^" fynnis, as the ruby rede, 

That in the sonne on thaire scalis bryght 

As gesseraut^^ ay glitterit in my sight : 1071 

And by this ilke ry ver-syde alawe ^ 

Ane hye way [thar] fand I like to bene,^° 

On quhieh, on every syde, a longe rawe 
Off treis saw I, full of levis grene, 
That full of f ruyte delitable were to sene, 

And also, as it come unto my mind, 

Off bestis sawe I mony diverse kynd: 

The lyoun king, and his fere ^^ lyonesse; 

The pantere, like unto the smaragdyne; ^^ 
The lytill squerell, full of besynesse; loSr 

The slawe ase, the druggare beste of 
pyne33; 

The nyce ^* ape; the werely porpapyne; 35 
The percyng lynx; the lufare unicorne,^^ 
That voidis^" venym with his evoure^^ home. 

19 teaching. 20 Skeat suggests court. 21 pleasant 
plain. 22 Along. 23 Embroidered. 24 a kind of 
sound, mingled. 25 Leapt. 26 addressed. 27 coral. 
23 shining mail. 29 down by this same river-side. 

30 like as it were, 'i companion. . 32 emerald. 33 beast 
drudging painfully. 34 foolish. '5 bristling porcupine. 
36 The unicorn was supposed to be subdued by virgins. 
*^ expels. 33 ivory. 



362 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



There sawe I dresse ^ him new out of [his] 
haunt 
The fery2 tigere, full of felonye; 
The droniydare; the standard oliphant; 
The wyly fox, the wedowis inemye; 
The clyaibare gayte;^ the elk for alblas- 
trye ; ^ 1090 

The herknere bore;^ the holsum grey for 

hortis ; '^ 
The haire also, that oft gooth to the wortis.^ 

The bugill,^ draware by his hornis grete; 
The martrik,i° sable, f oynyee,ii and mony 
mo; 
The ehalk-quhite ermyn, tippit as the jete ; 
The riall hert, the conyng,^"^ and the ro; 
The wolf, that of the murthir noght say- 
[is]'Ho!'i3 

The lesty ^^ bever, and the ravin bare ; ^^ 
For chamelot,!^ the camel full of hare ; 

With mony an othir beste diverse and 
strange, noo 

That cum myth noght as now unto my 
mynd. 
Bot now to purpose, — straucht furth the 
range 
I held a way, oure-hailing ^"^ in my mynd 
From quhens I come, and quhare that I 
suld fynd 
Fortune, the goddesse; unto quhom in hye 
Gude Hope, my gyde, has led me sodeynly. 

And at the last, beh aiding thus asyde, 
A rounde place [y]wallit have I found; 

In myddis quhare eftsone ^^ I have [ajspide 

Fortune, the goddesse, hufing ^^ on the 

ground : mo 

And ryght before hir fete, of compas round, 

A quhele, on quhich [than] clevering I sye 20 

A multitude of folk before myn eye. 

And ane surcote sche werit long that tyde, 

That semyt [un]to me of diverse hewis, 
Quhilum^i thus, quhen sche wald [hir] turn 
asyde, 
Stude this goddesse of fortune and [of 

glewis^^]; 
A chapellet, with mony fresche anewis,^^ 

1 issue. 2 active. 3 standing. * climbing goat. 
5 proof against missiles of the cross-bow. ^ heark'uing 
boar. ^ badger, [whose grease is good] for hurts, 

s vegetables. » ox. i" marten. n beech-marten. 
12 coney. i3 never ceases. 1^ skilful. is ravening 
bear. is camlet cloth. i^ revolving, is goon after. 
19 dwelling. 20 clambering I saw. 21 At times. 

22 sports, freaks. 23 little rings. Fr. anneau. 



Sche had upon her hed; and with this hong 
A mautill on hir schuldris, large and long, 

That furrit was with ermyn full quhite, 1121 
Degoutitwith the self ^^ in spottis blake: 

And quhilum in hir chiere^s thus a lyte^^ 
Louring sche was; and thus soue it wold 

slake. 
And sodeynly a maner smylyng make, 

And 27 sche were glad ; [for] at one contenance 

Sche held noght, bot [was] ay in variance. 

And underneth the quhele sawe I there 
Ane ugly pit, [was] depe as ony helle, 

That to behald thereon I quoke for fere; 
Bot o thing herd I, that quho there-in 

fell xr3i 

Come no more up agane, tidingis to telle; 
Off quhich, astonait of that feref ull syght, 
I ne wist quhat to done, so was I fricht.^^ 

Bot for to see the sudayn weltering 

Off that ilk quhele, that sloppare^^ was to 
hold, 
It semyt unto my wit a strange thing, 
So mony I sawe that than clymben wold, 
And failit foting, and to ground were 
rold; 
And othir eke, that sat above on hye, 1 140 
Were overthrawe in twinklyng of an eye. 

And on the quhele was lytill void space, 
Wele nere ouie-straught^° fro lawe[un]to 
hye; 
And they were ware^^ that longe sat in 
place. 
So tolter quhilum did sche it to-wrye; ^^ 
There was bot elymbe[n] and ryght doun- 
ward hye. 
And sum were eke that fallen had [so] sore. 
There for to elymbe thaire corage was no 
more. 

I sawe also that, quhere [as] sum were 

slungin, 

Be quhirlyng of the quhele, unto the 

ground, 1150 

Full sudaynly sche hath [thaim] up 

ythrungin,^^ 

And set thame on agane full sauf and 

sound: 
And ever I sawe a newe swarm abound, 
24 self-spotted. 25 cheer, demeanour. 26 a little. 
27 If. 28 affrighted. 29 slippery. so very nearly 
covered. 3i wary. 32 go unsteadily at times she 

turned it about. s^ thrust them up. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



363 



That [thought] to clymbe upward upon the 

quhele, 
In stede of thame that myght no langer 

rele.^ 

And at the last, in presence of thame all 
That stude about, sche clepit^ me be 
name; 
And therewith apon kneis gan I fall 

Full sodaynly hailsing,^ abaist for schame ; 

And, smylyug thus, sche said to me in 

game, 1160 

* Quhat dois thou here ? Quho has the hider 

sent ? 
Say on anon, and tell me thyn entent. 

* I se wele, by thy chere and contenance, 

There is sum thing that \jis the on hert. 
It stant'^ noght with the as thou wald, per- 
chance ? ' 
* Madame,' quod I, 'for lufe is all the 

smert 
That ever I fele, endlang and over- 
thwert.^ 
Help, of your grace, me wofuU wrechit 

wight, 
Sen® me to cure ye powere have and 
myght.' 

* Quhat help,' quod sche, * wold thou that I 

ordeyne, 1170 

To bring[en] the unto thy hertis desire?' 

* Madame,' quod I, 'bot" that your grace 

dedeyne. 
Off your grete myght, my wittis to en- 
spire. 
To win 8 the well that slokin may the f yre 
In quhich I birn; a, goddesse fortunate! 
Help now my game, that is in point to 
mate.' ^ 

'Off mate ? ' quod sche, ' 0! verray sely ^"^ 
wrech, 
I se wele by thy dedely eoloure pale. 
Thou art to feble of thy-self to streche 
Upon my quhele, to clymbe[n] or 
to hale 11 1 180 

Withoutin help; for thou has fundin 
stale 12 
This mony day, withoutin werdis wele,^^ 
And wantis now thy veray hertis hele.^^ 

1 go round, roll. 2 called. 3 saluting. * stands. 
8 along and across, through and through me. ^ shice. 
7 only. 8 reach. 9 on point of being checkmated. 
10 helpless. " haul. 12 found stalemate. " good- 
ness of fortune. 1* health. 



' Wele maistow be a wrechit man [y]callit. 
That wantis the confort suld thy hert[e] 
glade; 
And has all thing within thy hert[e] stallit ^^ 
That may thy youth oppressen or def ade.^^ 
Though thy begynnyng hath bene retro- 
grade. 
Be froward opposyt quhare till aspert,^" 
Now sail thai turn, and luke[n] on the 
dert.'is „9o 

And therewith-all unto the quhele in hye 
Sche hath me led, and bad me lere i'-* to 
clymbe, 
Upon the quhich I steppit sudaynly. 

'Nowhald thy grippis,' quod sche, 'for 

thy tyme; 
Ane houre and more it rynnis over prime; 
To count the hole, the half is nere away; 
Spend wele, therefore, the remauaut of the 
day. 

' Ensample,' quod sche, * tak of this tofore,^^ 

That fro my quhele be rollit as a ball; 

For the nature of it is evermore, 1200 

After ane hicht, to vale -^ and gave a fall. 

Thus, quhen me likith, up or doune to 

fall. 

Fare wele,' quod sche, and by the ere me 

toke 
So ernestly, that therewithall I woke. 

O besy goste ! ^ ay flikering to and fro, 

That never art in quiet nor in rest. 
Till thou cum to that place that thou cam 
fro, 
Quhich is thy first and verray proper 

nest: 
From day to day so sore here artow 
drestj-^^ 

That with thy flesche ay walking ^-i art in 

trouble, 12 10 

And sleping eke ; of pyne so has thou double. 

Towart 25 my-self all this mene I to loke. 
Though that my spirit vexit was tofore. 

In suev[en]yng,26 alssone as ever I woke. 
By twenty fold it was in trouble more. 
Bethinking me with sighing hert and sore, 

That [I] nan othir thingis bot dremes had. 

Nor sekernes,2" my spirit with to glad. 

1^5 installed. is dispirit. i^ opposed by perverse 
men expert in this. is dirt. i9 learn. 20 these 

folk before (thee). 21 descend. 22 restless spirit. 
23 art thou treated. 24 always while waking. 25 MS. 
Couret. 26 dreaming. 27 certainty. 



3^4 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



And therewith sone I dressit^ me to ryse, 
Fulfild of thoght,^ pyne, and adversitee; 
And to my-self I said upon this wise; 122 1 
'A! merci, Lord! quhat will ye do with 

me? 
Quhat lyf is this ? Quhare hath my spirit 
be? 
Is this of my forethoght impressioun, 
Or is it from the hevin a visioun ? 

* And gif ye goddis, of youre purviance, 
Have schewit this for my reconforting, 

In relesche ^ of my f uriouse pennance, 
I yow beseke full humily of this thing, 
That of youre grace I myght have more 
takenyng,^ 1230 

Gif it sal be as in my slepe before 

Yo she wit have ' : and forth, withoutin 



In hye unto the wyndow gan I walk, 
Moving within my spirit of this sight, 

Quhare sodeynly a turture,^ quhite as 
calk,^ 
So evinly upon my hand gan lyght. 
And unto me sche turnyt hir full ryght, 

Off quham the chere in hir birdis aport "^ 

Gave me in hert[e] kalendis^ of confort. 

This fair[e] bird ryght in hir bill gan hold 

Of red jorofflis^ with thair stalkis grene 

A fair[e] branche, quhare writtin was with 

gold, 1242 

On every list,^° with branehisi^ bryght 

and schene 
In compas fair, full plesandly to sene, 
A plane sentence, quhich, as I can devise 
And have in mynd, said ryght [up]on this 



*Awak! awake! I bring, lufar, I bring 

The newis glad, tbat blisf uU ben and sure 
Of thy confort; now lauch, and play, and 

syng, 

That art besid so glad an aventure; 1250 
For in the hevyn decretit is the cure.' ^^ 
And unto me the flouris fair present: ^^ 
With wyngis spred, hir wayis furth sche 
went. 

Quhilk up a-none I tuke, and as I gesse, 
Ane hundreth tymes, or^^ I forthir went, 

1 addressed. 2 anxiety. 3 lightening. * token. 

» turtle-dove. « chalk. 1 demeanor. » beginnings. 

» gill3rflowers. i" edge. " flourishes. 12 cure is 

decreed thee. i3 she presented. 1* ere. 



I have it red, with hert[e]full glaidnese; 

And, half with hope, and half with dred, 
it hent,!^ 

And at my beddis hed, with gud entent, 
I have it faure pynnit up, and this 1259 

First takyn was of all my help and blisse. 

The quhiche treuly efter, day be day. 
That all my wittis maistrit had tofore. 

From henn[e]sferth the paynis did away. 
And schortly, so wele Fortune has hir 

bore. 
To quikin treuly day by day my lore,^^ 

To my larges that ^'^ I am cumin agayn, 

To blisse with hir that is my sovirane. 

Bot for als moche as sum micht think or 
seyne, 
Quhat nedis me, apoun so litill evyn,i8 
To writt all this ? I ansuere thus ageyne, 
* Quho that from hell war croppin onys 
in hevin,!^ 1271 

Wald, efter o^*^ thank, for ioy mak sex 
or sevin: 
And every wicht his awin suete^^ or sore 
Has maist in mynde ': I can say you no 
more. 

Eke quho may in this lyfe have more ples- 
ance 
Than cum to largesse from thraldom and 
peyne. 
And by the mene^^ of Luffis ordinance. 
That has so mony in his goldin cheyne ? 
Quhich th[ink]is to wyn his hertis sov- 
ereyne, 
Quho suld me wite 23 to write thar-of, lat 
se ! 1280 

Now sufficiante is my felicitee. 

Beseching unto fair Venus abufe. 

For all my brethir that bene in this place, 

This is to seyne, that servandis ar to Lufe, 
And of his lady can no thank purchase. 
His paine relesch,^^ and sone to stand in 
grace, 

Boith to his worschip^s and to his first ese; 

So that it hir and resoun noght displese: 

And eke for tham that ar noght entrit inne 

The dance of lufe, bot thidder-wart on 

way, 1290 

15 took. 16 learning. i^ That to my freedom. 

18 upon so small a foundation. i9 had once crept into 
heaven. 20 one. 21 sweet, happiness. 22 
23 blame. 2* relieve. '* honour. 



THE KING'S QUAIR 



365 



In glide tyme and sely 1 to begynne 

Thair prentissehed, and forthir-more I 

pray 
For thame that passit ben the mony af- 
fray 2 
In lufe, and cummyn am to full plesance, 
To graunt tham all, lo! gude perseverance: 

And eke I pray for all the hertis dull, 

That lyven here in sleuth and ignorance. 

And has no curage at the rose^ to pull, 

Thaur lif to mend and thair saulis avance 

With [hir] ^ suete lore, and bring tham 

to gude chance; 1300 

And quho that will noght for this prayer 

turn, 
Quhen thai wald faynest speid, that thai 
may spurn.^ 

To rekyn of every thing the circumstance, 
As hapnit me quhen lessen gan my sore 
Of my rancoure and [al my] wof uU chance. 
It war to long; I lat it be tharefor. 
And thus this floure, I can seye [you] no 
more, 
So hertly has unto my help attendit, 
That from the deth hir man sche has de- 
fendit. 

And eke the goddis mercifuU wirking,^ 
For my long pane and trewe service in 
lufe, 13 1 1 

That has me gevin halely myn asking, 
Quhich has my hert for evir sett abufe 
In perfyte joy, that nevir may remufe, 
Bot onely deth: of quhom, in laud and 

prise,'^ 
With thankful! hert I say richt in this 



' Blissit mot ^ be the [heye] goddis all. 
So fair that glitteren in the firmament! 

And blissit be thare myght celestiall, 13 19 
That have convoyit hale, with one assent. 
My lufe, and to [so] glade a consequent! 

And thankit be Fortunys exiltree 

And quhele, that thus so wele has quhirlit 



* Thankit mot be, and fair and lufe befall 
The nychtingale, that, with so gud en- 
tent, 

1 happy. 2 struggles. ' The symbol of the 

object of love in the Roman de la Rose. * Venus's. 

MS. thair. s i pray that they may trip. 6 working. 
^ praise. s may. 



Sang thare of lufe the notis suete and small, 
Quhair my fair hertis lady was present, 
Hir with to glad, or ^ that sche f orthir 
went! 
And thou gerafloure,^^ mot i-thankit be 
All othir flouris for the lufe of the I 1330 

' And thankit be the f aire castell-wall, 
Quhare as I quhilom lukit f urth and lent! 

Thankit mot be the Sanctis marciall,!^ 
That me first causit hath this accident. 
Thankit mot be the grene bewis '^ bent, 

Throu quhom, and under, first f ortunyt me ^^ 

My hertis hele,^^ and my conf ort to se ! ' ^^ 

For to the presence suete and delitable, 
Rycht of this floure that full is of ples- 
, ance. 

By processe and by menys favorable, 1340 
First of the blisf ul goddis purveyance, 
And syne 1* throu long and trew contynu- 
ance 
Of veray faith in lufe and trew service, 
I cum am, and [yit] forthir in this wise. 

Unworthy, lo, bot onely of hir grace, 

In lufis yok, that esy is and sure. 
In guerdoun [eke] of all my lufis space,^"^ 

Sche hath me tak, hir humble creature. 

And thus befell my blisfull aventure, 1349 
In youth of lufe, that now, from day to day 
Flourith ay newe; and yit forthir, I say: — 

Go litill tretise, nakit of eloquence, 

Causing simplese and povertee to wit;^^ 

And pray the reder to have pacience 
Of thy defaute, and to supporten it,^^ 
Of his gudnese thy brukilnese to knytt,^^ 

And his tong for to reule[n] and to stere, 

That thy defautis helit may ben here. 

AUace ! and gif thou cummyst in presence, 
Quhare-as of blame faynest thou wald be 
quite,'^^ 1360 

To here thy rude and crukit eloquens, 
Quho sal be thare to pray for thy remyt? ^^ 
No wicht, bot geve23 hir merci will ad- 
mytt 
The for gud will, that is thy gyd and stere,^^ 
To quham for me thou pitousely requere.^^ 

9 ere. 10 gillyflower. u saints of March. 

12 boughs. 13 happened to me. " healing, is MS. be. 
16 afterwards. i' duration. is to be known. i9 to 
bear with it. 20 thy brokenness to piece together. 

21 free. 22 excuse. 23 No person, unless. 24 pilot. 
*5 do thou piteously entreat. 



366 



JAMES I OF SCOTS 



And thus endith the fatall influence, 

Causit from bevyn, quliare power is com- 
niytt 
Of govirnance, by the magnificence 
Of Him that hiest in the hevin sitt;^ 
To quham we thank that all cure [lif] 
hath writt, 1370 

Quho couth it red, agone syne mony a 

yere, 
Hich in the hevynnis figure circulere. 

Vnto [the] impnis^ of my maisteris dere, 
Gowere and Chaucere, that on the step- 
pis satt 
Of rethorike, quhill thai were lyvand 
here, 
Superlative as poetis laureate, 
In moralitee and eloquence ornate, , 
I recommend my buk in lynis sevin, 
And eke thair saulis un-tothe blisse of hevin. 
Amen. 

Quod explicit Jacobus Primus,^ 
Scotorum Rex Illustrissimus. 



GOOD COUNSEL^ 

Sen ^ throu vertew encressis dignite, 

And vertew flour and rut is of noblay,^ 
Of ony weiU or quhat estat thou be, 

1 sitteth. 2 hymns. 

s This is Skeat's restoration of the text of a ballad 
found in the Bannatyne M.S., in M.S. Kk. 1. 5, in Cam- 
bridge University Library, and in The Gude and Godlie 
Ballates, 1578, in which last it is ascribed to King 
James I. « Since. 5 nobility. 



His steppis sew,^ and dreid thee non 

eff ray : "^ 
Exil al vice, and follow trewth alway: 
Luf maist thy God, that first thy luf be- 

gan,^ 
And for ilk ^ inch he wil thee quyt '^^ a 
span. 

Be not our ^^ proud in thy prosperite, 
For as it cumis, sa wil it pas away; 
Thy tym to compt ^^ is schort, thou may 
Weill se, 10 

For of green gres soun cumis walowit 

hay. 
Labour in trewth, quhill licht is of the 
day. 
Trust maist in God, for he best gyd thee 

can, 
And for ilk inch he wil thee quyt a span. 

Sen word is thrall, and thocht is only 
free. 
Thou dant ^^ thy tung, that power hes and 
may; 
Thou steik ^^ thyn een f ra warldis vanite ; 
Refrein thy lust, and harkin quhat I say; 
Graip or ^^ thou slyd, and creip f urth on 
the way; 
Keip thy behest unto thy God and man, 20 
And for ilk inch he wil thee quyt a 
span. 

6 follow. 7 no terror for thyself. 

8 began by loving thee. 9 every. 10 requite. 
11 over. 12 when counted. i3 tame. 

14 close. 15 grope ere. 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID 

Ane doolie ^ sessoun to ane cairf ull dyte 
Suld correspond, and be equivalent. 

Richt sa it wes quhen I began to wryte 
This tragedie; the wedder richt ferveut,^ 
Quhen Aries, in middis of the Lent, 

Schouris of haill can fra the north discend, 

That scantlie fra the cauld I micht defend. 

Yit, nevertheles, within niyne oratur^ 
I stude, quhen Titan had his bemis bricht 

Withdrawin doun, and sylit under cure,^ lo 
And fair Venus, the bewtie of the nicht, 
Uprais, and set unto the west full richt 

Hir golden face, in oppositioun 

Of god Phebus, direct discend ing doun. 

Throw out the glas hir bemis brast ^ sa fair 
That I micht se on everie syde me by 

The northin wind had purifyit the air, 
And sched the mistie cloudis fra the sky; 
The f roist freisit, the blastis bitterly 

Fra Pole Article come quhisling loud and 
schill,^ 20 

And causit me remufe agaiiis my will. 

For I traistit that Venus, luifis quene. 
To quhome sum tyme I hecht " obedience, 

My faidit hart of Infe scho wald mak grene; 
And therupon, with humbill reverence, 
I thocht to pray hir hie magnificence; 

Bot for greit cauld as than I lattit ^ was, 

And in my chalmer to the fyre can pas. 

Thocht lufe be hait,^ yit in ane man of age 

It kendillis nocht sa sone as in yontheid. 

Of quhome the blude is flowing in ane 

rage, 31 

And in the auld the curage doif 1° and 

deid; 
Of quhilk the fire outward is best remeid: 
To help be phisike quhair that nature faillit 
I am expert — for baith I have assailit.^i 

1 doleful. 2 severe. ' oratory. * concealed 
under cover. 5 burst. ^' shrill. ^ formerly I prom- 
ised. 8 prevented. » hot. 10 dull (deaf). " tried. 



I mend the fyre, and beikit ^^ me about, 
Tiiantuik ane drink my spreitis to comfort. 

And armit me weill fra the cauld thairout: 

To cut the winter nicht, and mak it schort, 

I tuik ane quair,i^ and left all, uther 

sport, 40 

Writtin be worthie Chaucer glorious, 

Of fair Creisseid and worthie Troylus. 

And thair I fand, efter that Diomeid 
Ressavit had that lady bricht of hew, 

How Troilus neir out of wit abraid," 
And weipit soir, with visage paill of hew; 
For quhilk wanhope^'^ his teiris can renew, 

Qnhill 16 Esperus 1' rejoisit him agane: 

Thus quhyle ^^ in joy he levit, quhile ^^ in 
pane. 

Of hir behest he had greit comforting, 50 
Traisting to Troy that scho suld mak 
retour, 

Quhilk he desyrit maist of eirdly thing. 
For quhy 1^ scho was his only paramour; 
Bot quhen he saw passit baith day and hour 

Of hir ganecome,^*^ than sorrow can oppres 

His wofull hart in cair and hevines. 

Of his distres me neidis nocht reheirs. 
For worthie Chauceir, in the samin buik, 

In gudelie termis, and in joly veirs, 

Conipylit lies his cairis, quha will luik. 60 
To brek my sleip ane uther quair I tuik. 

In quhilk I fand the fatall destenie 

Of fair Cresseid, that endit wretchitlie. 

Quha wait 21 gif all that Chauceir wrait was 
trew ? 

Nor I wait nocht gif this narratioun 
Be authoreist, or fenyeit of the new ^ 

Be sum poeit, throw his inventioun 

Maid to report the lamentatioun 
And wofull end of this lustie Creisseid; 
And quhat distres scho thoillit,^^ and quhat 
deid.2^ 70 

12 basked. i3 quire, book. " started, is despair. 
16 Till. 17 Esperance, hope. is sometimes — some- 
times. 19 because. 20 again-coming. 21 knows. 
22 newly feigned. 23 suffered. 2* death. 



368 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



Qiihen Diomed had all his appetyte, 
And mair, fulfiUit of this fair ladie, 

Upon ane iither he set his haill delyte, 
And send to hir ane lybell of repudie; 
And hir exeludit fra his eompanie. 

Than desolait seho walkit up and doun, 

And, sum men sayis, into the court commoun. 

O, fair Cresseid ! the floure and A per se 
Of Troy and Grece, how was thow fortu- 
nait ! ^ 

To change in filth all thy feminitie, 80 

And be with fleschelie lust sa maculait,^ 
And go amang the Greikis air ^ and lait, 

So giglotlike,^ takand thy foull plesance ! 

I have pietie thow suld fall sic mischance. 

Yit,nevertheles,quhat ever men deme or say 
In scornefuU langage of thy brukkilnes,^ 

I sail excuse, als far furth as I may, 

Thy womanheid, thy wisdome, and f airnes : 
The quhi[l]k Fortoun hes put to sic dis- 
tres 

As hir pleisit, and nathing throw the gilt 90 

Of the, throw wickit langage to be spilt. 

This fair lady, in this wyse destitute 
Of all comfort and consolatioun, 

Richt privelie, but ^ fellowschip, on f ute 
Disagysit passit far out of the toun 
Ane myle or twa, unto ane mansioun, 

Beildit ^ full gay, quhair hir father Calchas 

Quhilk than amang the Greikis dwelland 



Quhen he hir saw, the cans he can inquyre 
Of hir cumming. Scho said, siching full 

soir, 100 

* Fra ^ Diomeid had gottin his desyre 
He wox werie, and wald of me no moir.' 
Quod Calchas, ' Douchter, weip thow not 
thairfoir, 
Peraventure all cummis for the best : 
Welcum to me, thow art full deir ane gest.' 

This auld Calchas, efter the law was tho, 

Wes keiper of the tempill, as ane preist, 
In quhilk Venus and hir sone Cupido 
War honourit, and his chalmer was 

thame neist, 
To quhilk Cresseid with baill aneuch^ in 
breist no 



1 fortuned, ordained. 
a silly girl. ^ frailty. 
8 After. 9 enough. 



s stained. 3 early. * like 
6 without. ■? Decorated. 



Usit to pas, hir prayeris for to say; 
Quhill at the last, upon ane solempne day, 

As custome was, the pepill far and neir, 
Befoir the none, unto the tempill went 

With sacrifice, devoit^^ in thair maneir. 
But still Cresseid, hevie in hir intent, 
In-to the kirk wald not hir self present, 

For giving of ^^ the pepill ony deming 

Of hir expuls fra Diomeid the king; 

Bot past into ane secreit orature, 120 

Quhair scho micht weip hir wofulldesteny. 

Behind hir bak scho cloisit fast the dure. 
And on hir kneis bair fell down in hy;^^ 
Upon Venus and Cupide angerly 

Scho cryit out, and said on this same wyse, 

' Allace I that ever I maid yow sacrifice ! 

'Ye gave me anis ane devine responsailP^ 
That I suld be the flour of luif in Troy, 

Now am I maid an unworthie outwaill,^^ 
And all in cair translatit is my joy. 130 
Quha sail me gyde ? Quha sail me now 
convoy. 

Sen I fra Diomeid, and nobill Troylus, 

Am clene exeludit, as abject odious ? 

* O fals Cupide, is nane to wyte ^^ bot thow. 

And thy mother, of luf e the blind goddess ! 

Ye eausit me alwayis understand and trow 

The seid of lufe was sawin in my face, 

And ay grew grene throw your supplie ^® 

and grace. 

Bot now, allace, that seid with froist is 

slane, 
And I fra luifEeris left, and all f orlane.' ^^ 140 

Quhen this was said, donn in ane extasie, 
Ravischit in spreit, intill ane dreame scho 
fell, 
And be apperance hard,^^ quhair scho did ly, 
Cupide the king ringand ane silver bell, 
Quhilk men micht heir fra hevin unto 
hell; 
At quhais sound befoir Cupide appeiris 
The sevin Planetis, discending fra thair 
spheiris, 

Quh'lk hes power of all thing generabill ^^ 
To reull and steir be thair greit influ- 
ence, 
10 devout. 11 Lest she should give. 12 haste. 

IS answer (to prayer), i* outcast, is blame, i^ sup- 
port. " out of fashion. is heard. i9 that can 
be generated. 



THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID 



369 



Wedder and wind, and coursis variabill. 150 
And first of all, Saturne gave his sen- 
tence, 
Quliilk gave to Cupid e litill reverence, 
Bot, as ane busteous ^ churle on his maneir. 
Come crabitlie, with auster luik and cheir. 

His face frosnit,^ bis lyre^ was lyke the 
leid, 
His teith chatterit and cheverit^ with 
the chin, 
His ene drowpit, how^ sonkin in his heid. 
Out of his nois the meldrop ^ fast can rin, 
With lippis bla,"^ and cheikis leine and 
thin, 
The ice-schoklis that fra his hair doun hang 
Was wonder greit, and as ane speir als 
lang. 161 

Atouir^ his belt his lyart^ lokkis lay 

Felterit^'^ unfair, ouirfret with froistis 
hoir; 
His garmound and his gyis^i full gay of 
gray; 
His widderit weid^ fra him the wind out 

woir,i2 
Ane busteous bow within his hand he 
boir; 
Under his girdill ane flasche of felloun 

flanis,i4 
Fedderit with ice, and heidit with hailstanis. 

Than Juppiter richt fair and amiabill, 
God of the starnis in the firmament, 170 

And nureis to all thing generabill, 
Fra his father Saturne far different, 
With burelie ^^ face, and browis bricht 
and brent,^^ 

Upon his heid ane garland, wonder gay, 

Of flouris fair, as it had bene in May. 

His voice was cleir, as cristall wer his ene, 
As goldin wyre sa glitterand was his 
hair, 
His garmound and his gyis full [gay] of 
grene. 
With golden listis ^'^ gilt on everie gair;^^ 
Ane burelie brand about his middillbair; 
In his right hand he had ane groundini^ 
speir, 181 

Of his father the wraith fra us to weir.^o 

1 blustering. 2 wrinkled. 3 complexion. * shiv- 
ered. 5 hollow. 6 mucus. ' livid. 8 Over. 
9 hoary. 10 matted. " mantle. 12 w-ithered weeds. 
13 wafted away. i« a sheaf of cruel arrows, is goodly. 
19 smooth. " edges, 18 gore, is sharpened. 20 ward. 



Nixt efter him come Mars, the god of ire, 

Of strife, debait, and all dissensioim. 
To chide and fecht, als feirs as ony fyre; 
In hard harnes, hewmound,^! and habir- 

geoun ; 
And on his hanche ane roustie fell fach- 
ioun. 
And in his hand he had ane roustie sword; 
Wrything his face with mony angrie word. 

Schaikand his sword, befoir Cupide he 

come 

With reid visage and grislie glowrand 

ene; 191 

And at his mouth ane bullar22 stude of 

fome, 

Lyke to ane bair ^3 quhetting his tuskis 

kene, 
Richt tuilyeour lyke, but temperance in 
tene; ^4 
Ane home he blew with mony bosteous 

brag, 
Quhilk all this warld with weir ^ hes maid 
to wag. 

Than fair Phebus, lanterns and lamp of 
licht 
Of man and heist, baith frute and flour- 
isching, 
Tender nureis, and banischer of nicht. 
And of the warld causing be his moving 
And influence lyfe in all eirdlie thing, 201 
Without comfort of quhome, of force to 

nocht 
Must all ga die that in this warld is 
wrocht. 

As king royall he raid upon his chair, 
The quhilk Phaeton gydit sum-tyme un- 
richt. 
The brichtness of his face, quhen it was 
bair, 
Nane micht behald for peirsing of his 

sicht : 
This goldin cart with fvrie hemes bricht 
Four yokkit steidis full different of hew. 
But bait 26 or tyring, throw the spheiris 
drew. 210 

The first was soyr,^" with mane als reid as 
rois, 
Callit Eoye^s into the Orient; 

21 helmet. 22 bubble-mass. 23 boar. 24 quarrel- 
some, without temperance in anger. 25 war. 26 With- 
out pause. 27 sorrel. 28 Eous, belonging to the dawn. 



370 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



The secund steid to name hecht Ethios, 
Quliitlie aud paill, and sum deill ascend- 
ent; 
The thrid Peros, right hait and richt fer- 
vent ; 
The feird was blak, [and] callit Phlegonie, 
Quhilk rollis Phebus down into the sey. 

Venus was thair present, that goddess [gay], 

Her sonnis querrel for to defend, and 

mak 

Hir a win complaint, cled in ane nyce 

array, 220 

The ane half grene, the uther half sabill 

blak, 
Quhyte hair as gold, kemmit and sched 
abak, 
Bot in hir face semit greit variance, 
Quhyles perfyte treuth, and quhyles incon- 
stance. 

Under smyling scho was dissimulait, 
Provocative with blenkis ^ amorous, 

And suddanely changit aud alterait, 
Angrie as ony serpent vennemous, 
Richt pmigitive with wordis odious: 229 

Thus variant scho was, quha list tak keip,^ 

With ane eye lauch,^ and with the uther 
weip. 

In taikning ^ that all fleschelie paramour 
Quhilk Venus hes in reuU and govern- 
ance, 
Is sum tyme sweit, sum tyme bitter and 
sour, 
Richt unstabill, and full of variance, 
Miugit ^ with cairfull joy and fals ples- 
ance. 
Now hait, now cauld, now blyith, now full 

of wo, 
Now grene as leif, now widderit and ago. 

With buik in hand than come Mercurius, 
Richt eloquent and full of rethorie, 240 

With polite termis and delicious. 

With pen and ink to report all reddie, 
Setting sangis ^ and singand merilie. 

His hude was reid, heklit atouir '^ his croun, 

Lyke to ane poeit of the auld fassoun.^ 

Boxis he bair with fine electuairis. 
And sugerit syropis for digestioun, 

1 glances. « heed. 3 laughed. * tokening. 
6 Mingled. « songs (to music). " fringed about. 
8 fashion (of. Chaucer's portrait). 



Spycis belangand to the pothecairis, 
With mony hailsum sweit confectioun, 
Doctour in phisick, cled in ane skarlot 
goun, 
And furrit weill, as sic ane aucht to be, 251 
Honest and gude, and not ane word culd lie. 

Nixt efter him come Lady Cynthia, 

The last of all, and swiftest in hir spheir, 

Of colour blak, buskit^ with hornis twa, 
And in the nicht scho listis best appeir; 
Haw^^ as the leid, of colour nathing cleir; 

For all hir licht scho borrowis at hir brother 

Titan, for of hirself scho hes nane uther. 

Hir gyse was gray, and full of spottis blak ; 

And on hir breist ane churle paintit full 

evin, 261 

Beirand ane bunche of thornis on his bak, 

Quhilk for his thif t micht dim na nar ^^ 

the hevin. 
Thus quhen thay gadderit war thir God- 
dis sevin, 
Mercurius they cheisit with ane assent 
To be foirspeikar in the parliament. 

Quha had bene thair, and liken for to heir 
His facound^^^Qung and termis exquisite, 

Of rhetorick the prettick^^ he micht leir," 
In breif sermone ane pregnant sentence 
wryte: 270 

Befoir Cupide veiling his cap alyte,i^ 

Speiris the cans of that vocation; 

Aud he anone schew ^^ his intentioun. 

* Lo,' (quod Cupide) * quha will blaspheme 

the name 
Of his awin god, outher in word or deid. 
To all goddis he dois baith lak^" and schame, 
And suld have bitter panis to his meid; 
I say this by yone wretchit Cresseid, 
The quhilk throw me was sum tyme flour 

of lufe, 
Me and my mother starklie can repruf e ; 280 

* Saying of hir greit inf elicitie 

I was the cans and my mother Venus; 

Ane blind Goddes hir cald, that micht not se, 
With sclander and defame injurious: 
Thus hir leving unclene and lecherous 

Scho wald returne on me and [on] my 
mother, 

Toquhorae I schew my grace abone all uther. 

9 decked. 10 Wan, livid. » nearer. 12 eloquent, 
"practice, "learn, "a little, "shewed, "reproach. 



THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID 



371 



* And sen ^ ye ar all seviu deificait, 
Participant of devyne sapience, 

This greit injure done to our hie estait, 290 
Me-think with pane we suld mak recom- 

pence; 
Was never to goddes done sic violence. 

As Weill for yow as for myself I say, 

Thairfoir ga help to revenge I yow pray.' 

Mercnrius to Cupide gave answeir, 

And said, ' Schir King, my coimsall is 
that ye 

Refer yow to the hiest planeit heir. 
And tak to him the lawest of degre, 
The pane of Cresseid for to modifie: ^ 

As God Saturne, with him tak Cynthia.' 300 

*I am content,' (quod he), 'to tak thay twa.' 

Than thus proceidit Saturne and the Mone, 
Quhen thay the mater rypelie had degest. 

For the dispyte to Cupide scho had done. 
And to Venus oppin and manifest. 
In all hir lyfe with pane to he opprest. 

And torment sair, with seiknes incurabill, 

And to all lovers be abhominabill. 

This dulefull sentence Saturne tuik on hand, 

And passit doun quhair cairf nil Cresseid 

lay, 310 

And on hir held he laid ane frostie wand; 
Than lawfullie^ on this wyse can he say: 
' Thy greit f airnes, and all thy bewtie gay, 

Thy wantoun blude, and eik thy goldin hair, 

Heir I exclude fra the for evermair. 

' I change thy mirth into melancholy, 
Quhilk is the mother of all pensivenes; 

Thy moisture and thy heit in cald and dry; 
Thyne insolence, thy play and waiitones 
To greit diseis; thy pomp and thy riches 

In mortall neid; and greit penuritie 321 

Thow suffer sail; and as ane beggar die.' 

cruell Saturne ! fraward and angrie. 

Hard is thy dome, and too malitious: 
On fair Cresseid quhy hes thow na mercie, 
Quhilk was sa sweit, gentill, and amour- 

ous? 
"Withdraw thy sentence, and be gracious 
As thow was never; so schawls thow thy 

deid, 
Ane wraikfull ■* sentence gevin on fair Cres- 
seid. 

1 since. 2 determine. ' in accordance with the 
decision of the court. * revengeful. 



Than Cynthia, quhen Saturne past away, 330 

Out of hir sait discendit down belyve,^ 
And red ane bill on Cresseid quhair scho 

lay, 
Contening this sentence diffinityve : 
' Fra heit ^ of bodie I the now deprive, 
And to thy seiknes sal be na recure, 
But in dolour thy dayis to indure. 

* Thy cristall ene minglit with blude I mak; 

Thy voice sa cleir, unplesand, hoir, and 

hace; " 

Thy lustie lyre ^ ouirspred with spottis blak. 

And lumpis haw ^ appeirand in thy face; 

Quhair thow cummis, ilk man sail fle the 

place; 341 

This sail thow go begging fra hous to hous. 

With cop and clapper lyke ane lazarous.' '^^ 

This doolie dreame, this uglye visioun 

Brocht to ane end, Cresseid fra it awoik. 
And all that court and convocatioun 

Vanischit away. Than rais scho up and 

tuik 

Ane poleist glas, and hir schaddow culd 

luik; 

And quhen scho saw hir face sa deformait, 

Gif scho in hart was wa aneuch, God 

wait!^ 350 

Weiping full sair, * Lo, quhat it is,' (quod 
sche) 
'With fraward langage for to mufe and 
steir 
Our craibit goddis, and sa is sene on me ! 
My blaspheming now have I bocht full 

deir; 
All eirdly joy and mirth I set areir.^ 
Allace, this day ! allace, this wof uU tyde ! 
Quhen I began with my goddis for to chyde ! ' 

Be this was said, ane chvld come fra the 

hall. 

To warne Cresseid the supper was reddy; 

First knokkit at the dure, and syne ^^ culd 

call, 360 

'Madame, your father biddis you cum 

in hy,i4 
He has mervell sa lang on grouf ^^ ye ly, 
And savis, vour prayers bene too lang sum 

deili; 
The goddis wait all your intent full weill.' 

5 quickly. ^ heat. ^ hoar (old), and hoarse. 

8 skin. 9 livid. 10 leper. " knows. 12 behind. 
13 afterwards. " haste. is grovelling. 



372 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



Quod scho, * Fair chylde, ga to my father 
deir 
And pray him cum to speik with me 
aiione.' 
And sa he did, and said, * Douchter, quhat 
cheir ? ' 
*Allace' (quod scho), 'father, my mirth 

is gone.' 
* How sa ? ' (quod he) and scho can all 
expone,^ 
As I have tauld, the vengeance and the 
wraik,2 370 

For hir trespas, Cupide on hir culd tak. 

He luikit on hir uglye lipper ^ face, 

The quhilk befor was quhite as lillie 
flour; 
Wringand his handis, oftymes he said, 
allace. 
That he had levit to se that wofull hour; 
For he knew weill that thair was na suc- 
cour 
To hir seiknes, and that dowblit his pane; 
Thus was thair cair aneuch betuix thame 
twane. 

Quhen thay togidder murnit had full lang, 
Quod Cresseid, 'Father, I wald not be 



kend; 



380 



Thairfoir in secreit wyse ye let me gang 
Unto yone hospitall at the tounis end; 
And thidder sura meit for cheritie me 
send. 
To leif upon ; for all mirth in this eird ^ 
Is fra me gane, sic is my wickit weird.' ^ 

Than in ane mantill and ane bavar ' hat, 
With cop and clapper, wonder prively 

He opnit ane secreit yett,^ and out thair at 
Convoyit hir, that na man suld espy. 
Unto ane village half ane myle thairby; 

Delyverit hir in at the spittail hous, 391 

And daylie sent hir part of his almous. 

Sum knew hir weill, and sum had na knawl- 
edge 

Of hir, becans scho was sa deformait 
With bylis ^ blak ovirspred in hir visage. 

And hir fair colour faidit and alterait. 

Yit thay presumit, for hir hie regrait,i<^ 
And still murning, scho was of nobill kin: 
With better will thairfoir they tuik hir in. 

1 expound. 2 wreakingr. 3 festering, leprous. 

* known. 5 earth. e fate. ' beaver. s gate. 
9 boils. 10 grief. 



The day passit, and Phebus went to rest, 
The cloudis blak ouirquhelmit all the 
sky: _ ^ 401 

God wait gif Cresseid was ane sorrowfull 
^ gest, 
Seeing that uncouth fair and herbery ! ^^ 
But i'-^ meit or drink scho dressit hir to ly 
In ane dark corner of the hous allone; 
And on this wyse, weiping, scho maid hir 
mone. 

THE COMPLAINT OF CRESSEID 

* O sop 1^ of sorrow, sonken into cair ! 
O, cative^^ Creisseid! for now and ever mair 
Gane is thy joy, and all thy mirth in eird; 
Of all blyithnes now art thow blaiknit 
bair;!^ 410 

Thair is na salve may saif the of thy sair. 
Fell is thy fortoun, wickit is thy weird; 
Thy blys is baneist, and thy baill on 
breird;i6 
Under the eirth God gif I gravin wer, 
Quhair nane of Grece nor yit of Troy 
micht heird.^'^ 

' Quhair is thy chalraer wantounlie besene,^^ 
With burelyi^ bed and bankouris browderifc 
bene,20 
Spycis and wyne to thy collatioun, 
The cowpis all of gold and silver schene. 
The sweit meitis, servit in plaittis clene, 420 
With saipheron sals^i of ane gude ses- 

soun,22 
Thy gay garmentis with mony gudely 
goun, 
Thy plesand lawn pinnit with goldin prene ? ^3 
AH is areir,24 thy greit royall renoun. 

' Quhair is thy garding with thir greissis gay, 
And f resche flowris, quhilk the Queue Floray 

Had paintit plesandly on everie pane,^^ 
Quhair thow was wont full merilye in May 
To walk and tak the dew be it was day, 429 

And heir the merle and mavis mony ane, 

With ladyis fair in carrolling ^6 to gane. 
And se the royal rinkis^' in thair array. 

In garmentis gay, garnischit on everie 
grane ? ^^ 

11 strange fare and lodging. 12 Without. " A sop 
is bread soaked in wine. Cressida is soaked in care. 
1* caitiff, unfortunate, is blackened bare. ^^ agrow- 
ing. 17 hear it. is gayly furnished. i^ goodly. 
20 good embroidered tapestries. 21 saffron sauce. 

22 seasoning. 23 pin. 24 behind. 25 leaf. 26 circular 
dances with song. 27 personages. 28 color. 



THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID 



373 



* Thy greit triuinphand fame and hie hon- 

our, 
Qnhair thow was callit of eirdlye wichtis 
flour — 
All is decayit, thy weird is welterit so,i 
Thy hie estait is turnit in darknes dour.^ 
This lipper ludge ^ tak for thy burelie hour, 
And for thy bed tak now ane bunche of 

stro; 
For waillit * wyne and meitis thow had 
tho, 440 

Tak mowlit ^ breid, peirrie,® and ceder ^ 
sour; 
Bot cop and clapper, now is all ago. 

* My cleir voice and courtlie carrolling, 
Quhair I was wont with ladyis for to sing, 

Is rawk as ruik,^ full hiddeous, hoir, and 

hace; 

My plesand port, all utheris precelling — ^ 

Of lustines^*^ I was hald maist conding — ^ 

Now is deform it the figour of my face — 

To luik on it na leid ^^ now lyking hes: 

Sowpit in syte,^^ I say with sair sich- 

ing, ^ ^ 450 

Ludgeit amang the lipper leid,^^ Allace ! 

* O ladyis fair of Troy and Grece attend 
My miserie, quhilk nane may comprehend, 

My frivoU fortoun, my infelicitie. 
My greit mischief, quhilk na man can 

amend ; 
Be war in tyme, approchis neir the end, 
And in your mynd ane rairrour mak of 

me; 
As I am now, peradventure that ye, 
For all your micht, may cum to that same 
end. 
Or ellis war,^^ gif ony war may be. 460 

' Nocht is your fairnes bot ane faiding 

flour, 
Nocht is your famous laud and hie honour 

Bot wind inflat in uther mennis eiris; 
Your roising ^^ reid to rotting sail retour. 
Exempill mak of me in your memour, 

Quhilk of sic thingis wofuU witnes beiris. 

All welth in eird away as wind it weiris; 
Be-war, thairfoir, approchis neir the hour; 

Fortoun is fikkill, quhen scho beginnis 
and steiris.' ^'^ 

1 turned so. 2 heavy. 3 leper lodge. * choice. 
B mouldy. « perrie, pear-cider. 7 cider. 8 hoarse 
as rook. » excelling. 10 fairness. n excellent 
(condign). 12 man. i3 Sunk in grief. i* leper 
people. 15 worse. 16 rosy. i? stirs. 



Thus chydand with her drerie destenye, 470 
Weiping, scho woik the nicht fra end to 
end; 
Bot all in vane; hir dule, hir cairfull cry, 
Micht not remeid,^^ nor yit hir murning 

mend. 
Ane lipper lady rais, and till hir wend, 
And said, ' Quhy spurnis thow aganis the 

wall. 
To sla thyself, and mend nathing at all ? 

* Sen thy weiping dowbillis bot thy wo, 

I counsall the mak vertew of ane neid; 

To leir to clap thy clapper to and fro, 479 

And leir^^ efter the law of lipper leid.' 

Thair was na buit,2° bot f urth with thame 

scho yeid,2i 

Fra place to place, quhill cauld and houn- 

ger sair 
Compellit hir to be ane rank beggair. 

That samin tyme of Troy the garnisoun, 

Quhilk had to chiftane worthie Troylus, 
Throw jeopardie of weir had strikken down 
Knichtis of Grece in number marvellous: 
With greit tryumphe and laiide victori- 
ous 
Agane to Troy richt royallie they raid, 489 
The way quhair Cresseid with the lipper 
baid.22 

Seing that companie, thai come all with 
ane stevin ; ^^ 
Thay gaif ane cry, and schuik coppis gude 
speid; 
Said, ' Worthie lordis, for Goddis lufe of 
hevin. 
To us lipper part of your almous deid.' 
Than to thair cry nobill Troylus tuik heid, 
Having pietie, neir by the place can pas 
Quhair Cresseid sat, not witting what scho 



Than upon him scho kest up baith her ene. 

And with ane blenk^^ it come into his 

thocht 499 

That he sumtime hir face befoir had sene; 

Bot scho was in sic plye ^ he knew hir 

nocht; 
Yit than hir luik into his mynd it brocht 
The sweit visage and amorous blenking 
Of fair Cresseid, sumtyme his awin darling. 

18 remedy. i9 Probably a mistake for live. 20 help, 
boot. 21 went, 22 abode. 23 voice. 2^ glance. 
85 such plight. 



374 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



Na wonder was, suppois ^ in mynd that he 
Tuik hir figure^ sa sone, and lo! uow 
quhy ? 

The idole of ane thing in cace ^ may be 
Sa deip imprentit in the fantasy, 
That it deludis the wittis outwardly, 509 

And sa appeiris in forme and lyke estait 

Within the mynd, as it was figurait. 

Ane spark of lufe than till his hart culd 
spring, 

And keudlit all his bodie in ane fyre. 
With hait fevir ane sweit and trinibling 

Him tuik, quhill he was reddieto expyre; 

To beir his scheild his breist began to tyre ; 
Within ane quhyle he changit mony hew. 
And, nevertheles, not ane ane uther knew. 

For knichtlie pietie and memoriall 519 

Of fair Cresseid, ane gyrdill can he tak, 
Ane purs of gold, and mony gay jowall, 
And in the skirt of Cresseid doun can 

swak: ^ 
Than raid away, and not ane word [he] 
spak. 
Pensive in hart, quhill he come to the toun. 
And for greit cair oft syis ^ almaist fell doun. 

The lipper folk to Cresseid than can draw, 
To se the equall distributioun 

Of the almous; biitquhan the gold they saw. 
Ilk ane to uther prevelie can roun,^ 529 
And said, ' Youe lord hes mair affectioun, 

How ever it be, unto yone lazarous. 

Than to us all; we knaw be his almous.' 

*Quhat lord is yone,' (quod scho), 'have 
ye na feill,"^ 
Hes done to us so greit humanitie ? ' 
* Yes,' (quod a lipper man), * I knaw him 
weill; 
Schir Troylus it is, gentill and fre.' ^ 
Quhen Cresseid understude that it was he, 
Stiffer than steill thair stert ane bitter 

stound ^ 
Throwout hir hart, and fell doun to the 
ground. 

Quhen scho, ouircome with siching sair and 
sad, 540 

With mony cairfull cry and cald 
* Ochane ! ^0 

1 although. 2 Had a mental picture of her. ' per- 
chance. 4 fling. 5 ofttimes. 6 whisper. "> know- 
ledge. 8 generous. 9 pang. i" Ohone! alas! 



Now is my breist with stormie stoundis 
stad,ii 
Wrappit in wo, ane wretch full will of 

wane: '^2 
Than swounit scho oft or scho culd re- 
frane, 
And ever in hir swouning cry it scho thus: 
O, fals Cresseid, and trew knicht Troylus ! 

* Thy lufe, thy lawtie,^^ and thy gentilnes 
I countit small in my prosperitie; 

Sa elevait I was in wantoues, 549 

And clam upon the fickill quheill ^^ sa hie; 
All faith and lufe I promissit to the 

Was in the self ^^ fickill and frivolous : 

O, fals Cresseid, and trew knicht Troilus ! 

' For lufe of me thow keipt gude continence, 
Honest and chaist in conversatioun ; 

Of all wemen protectour and defence 
Thou was, and helpit thair opinioun : ^^ 
My mynd in fleschelie foull affectioun 

Was inclynit to lustis lecherous: 559 

Fy, fals Cresseid ! O , trew knicht Troylus ! 

' Lovers, be war, and tak gude heid about 
Quhome that ye lufe, for quhome ye 
suffer paine; 
I lat vow wit, thair is richt few thairout ^'^ 
Quhome ye may traist to have trew lufe 

agane : 
Preif ^^ quhen ye will, your labour is in 
vaine ; 
Thairfoir, I reid ye tak thame as ye find. 
For thay ar sad as widdercock 1^ in wind, 

'Becaus I knaw the greit unstabilnes, 
Brukkil 2° as glas, into my self, I say, 569 

Traisting in uther als greit unfaithf nines, 
Als unconstant, and als untre w of fay ; ^i 
Thocht sum be trew, I wait richt few are 
thay; 

Quha findis treuth, lat him his lady ruse ^ : 

Nane but my self, as now, I will accuse.' 

Quhen this was said, with paper scho sat 
doun. 

And on this maneir maid hir testament: 
' Heir I beteiche ^s my corps and carioun 

With wormis and withtaidis^^ to be rent; 

My cop and clapper, and myne orna- 
ment, 

^1 bestead. 12 devoid of hope. i3 loyalty. 1* wheel 
(of Fortune), i^ were in themselves. is good fame. 
17 existing. is Try. i* sober as weather-vane. 

20 Brittle. 21 faith. 22 praise. 23 bequeath. 21 toads. 



THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER 



375 



And all my gold, the lipper folk sail 
have, 580 

Quhen I am deid, to burie me in grave. 

* This royall ring, set with this rubie reid, 

Quhilk Troylus in drowrie^ to me send. 
To him agane I leif it quhan I am deid, 
To mak my cairfull deid unto him 

kend:2 
Thus I conclude schortlie, and mak ane 
end; 
My spreit I leif to Diane, quhair scho 

dwellis, 
To walk with hir in waist woddis and wellis.^ 

* 0, Diomeid ! thow hes baith broche and 

belt 
Quhilk Troylus gave me in takning 590 
Of his trew lufe ' — and with that word 
scho swelt; ^ 
And sone ane lipper man tuik of the 

ring, 
Syne^ buryit hir withouttin tarying: 
To Troylus furthwith the ring he bair. 
And of Cresseid the deith he can declair. 

Quhen he had hard hir greit infirmitie, 

Hir legacie and lameutatioun, 
And how scho endit in sic povertie. 

He swelt for wo, and fell doun in ane 

swoun; 
For greit sorrow his hart to birst was 
boun: ^ 600 

Siching full sadlie, said, ' I can no moir; 
Scho was untrew, and wo is me thairfoir ! ' 

Sum said he maid ane tomb of merbell gray, 
And wrait hir name and superscriptioun, 

And laid it on hir grave, quhair that scho 
lay. 
In goldin letteris, conteiningtbis ressoun: 
* Lo, fair ladyis, Cresseid of Troyis toun, 

Sumtyme countit the flour of womanheid. 

Under this stane, late lipper, lyis deid ! ' 609 

Now, worthie Wemen, in this ballet schort, 
Made for your worschip and instructioun. 

Of cheritie I monische and exhort, 

Ming "^ not your lufe with fals deceptioun ; 
Beir in your mynd this schort couclu- 
sioun 

Of fair Cresseid, as I have said befoir: 

Sen scho is deid, I speik of hir no moir. 

1 courtship. 2 knowTi. 3 fountains. * swooned, 
died. * Then. « ready. ^ Mingle. 



THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND 
THE CADGERS 

QuHiLUM ^ thair wynnit ^'^ in a wildemes, 
As myne authour expreslie can declair, 
Ane revand ^ wolf, that levit upoun pur- 

ches 12 
On bestiall,^^ and maid him weill to fair; 
Was naue sa big about him he wald spair, 
And ^^ he wer hungrie, outher for favour or 

feid,is 
Bot in his wraith he werryit^^ thame to deid.i' 

Swa happynnit him in wetching, as he went, 
To meit ane foxe in middis of the way; 
He him f oirsaw, and f einyeit to be schent,^^ 
And with ane bek^^ he bad the wolf gud 

day. u 

' Welcum to me,' quod he, ' thow Russell ^o 

gray'; 
Syne loutit^i doun, and tuik him be the 

hand. 
'Ryse Mp, Lowrence,22 I leif the^a for to 

stand. 

' Quhair hes thow bene this sesoun fra my 

sicht ? 
Thow sail beir office, and my stewart be. 
For thow can knap ^^ doun caponis on the 

nicht, 
And, lowrand law,^ thow can gar hennis de.* 

* Schir,' said the foxe, ' that gauis ^6 not for 

me: 
And I am rad,^^ gif thay me se on far, 20 
That at my figure heist and bird will scar.'^s 

* Na,* quod the wolf, * thow can in covert 

creip, 
Upoun thy wame,^ and hint^° thame be the 

heid; 
And mak ane suddane schow^^ upoun ane 

scheip, 
Svne*- with thy wappynnis wirrie him to 

deid.' 

* Schir,' said the fox, ' ye knaw my rob is 

reid,^ 
And thairfoir thair will na [kyn] heist 

abide me, 
Thocht I wald be sa fals as for to hide me.* 

s Hawker. » Once upon a time, i" dwelt, n plun- 
dering. 12 plunder. i3 farm live-stock. n If. 
15 feud. 18 worried. i^ death. is pretended to be 
abashed. i' bow. 20 red fellow (fox). 21 bent. 
22 fox. 23 give thee leave. 24 snatch. 25 crouching 
low. 26 avails. 2- afraid. 25 \^ scared. 29 belly, 
so seize. »i shove, push, spring, sj Then. 33 robe 
is red. 



376 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



*Yis,' quod the wolf, 'throw buskis^ and 

throw breiris, 29 

X«aw can thow lour to cum to thiue intent,' 

* Schir,' said the fox, ' ye wait ^ weill how 

it gais; 
Ane lang space fra thame thay will feill 

my sent,^ 
Then will thay eschaip, suppois thay suld 

be schent;^ 
And I am schamefull for to cum behind 

thame 
In to the f eild, thocht I suld sleipand ^ find 

thame.' 

* Na,' quod the wolf, * thow can cum on the 

wind, 
For everie wrink,^ forsuith, thow hes ane 
wyle.' 

* Schir,* said the fox, ' that heist ye micht 

call blind. 
That micht not eschaip than fra me ane 

myle. 
How micht I ane of thame that wyis"^ be- 

gile ? 40 

My tippit twa eiris, and my twa gray ene, 
Garris me be kend ^ quhair I was never 

sene.' 

* Than,' said the wolf, 'Lowrence, I heir the 

le,9 

And castis for perrellis thy ginnes to de- 
fend; 10 

Bot all thy seinyes^^ sail not availl the, 

About the busk with wayis thocht thow 
wend; 

Falset^ will fail ye ay at the latter end; 

To bow at bidding, and byde not quhill 
thow brest,i3 

Thairfoir I gif the counsall for the best.' 

* Schir,' said the fox, * it is lenterne,!^ ye 

se; 50 

I can not fische, for weitting of my feit, 
To tak ane banestikkilH^; thocht we baith 

suld de, 
I haif na uther craft to win my meit; 
Bot war it pasche,^^ that men suld pultrie 

eit, 
As kiddis, larabes, or caponis in to ply,^"^ 
To beir your office than wald I not set by.' ^^ 

1 bushes. 2 know, s scent. * even if they should 
be frightened. 5 sleeping. 6 trick. ^ way. 8 Cause 
me to be recognized. 9 lie. i" seekest for dangers 
to excuse thy tricks, n excuses. 12 Falsehood. i3 do 
not wait till you are broken. i« Lent, is stickleback. 
i« Esister. " in good condition. is decline. 



'Than,' said the wolf, in wraith, ' wenis^® 

thow with wylis. 
And with thy mony mowis^^ me to mat ?2i 
It is ane auld dog, doutles, that thow begilis: 
Thow wenis to draw the stra befoir the 

catt! ' 60 

' Schir,' said the fox, * God wait, I mene not 

that; 
For and I did, it war weill worth that ye 
In ane reid raip ^^ had tyit me till ane tre, 

' Bot now I se he is ane fule, perfay,^^ 
That with his maister fallis in ressoning; 
I did bot till assay ^'^ quhat ye wald say; 
God wait, my mynd was on ane uther thing; 
I sail fulfill in all thing your bidding, 
Quhat ever ye chairge, on nichtis or on 
dayis.' 

* Weill,' quod the wolf, * I wait weill quhat 

thow sayis. 70 

* Bot yit I will thow mak to me ane aith,25 
For to be leill attour all levand leid.' ^6 

' Schir,' said the foxe, ' that ane word makis 

me wraith, 
For now I se ye haif me at ane dreid;^^ 
Yit sail I sweir, suppois it be not neid. 
Be luppiter, and on pane of my heid, 
I salbe trew to yow, quhill ^^ I be deid.' 

With that ane cadgear, with capill^ and 

with creillis,^*^ 
Come carpand^i furth; than Lowrence culd 

him spy. 
The fox the flewar ^^ of the f resche heiring 

feillis, 80 

And to the wolf he roundis ^^ prively : 
' Schir, yone ar hering the cadgear caryis hj ; 
Thairfoir I rid ^* that we se for sum wayis 
To get sum fische aganis thir fasting 

dayis. 

' Sen I am stewart, I wald we had sum 

stuff. 
And ye ar silver seik,^ I wait richt weill; 
Thocht we wald thig^^ yone verray chur- 

lische chuff,^^ 
He will not gif us ane hering of his creill, 
Befoir yone churle on kneis thocht we wald 

kneill; 

19 thinkest. 20 jests. 21 defeat. 22 red, bloody 
rope. 23 in faith. 24 try. 25 oath. 26 loyal beyond 
all living people. 27 in doubt. 28 till. 29 horse. 
30 panniers, baskets. si shouting. 32 smell. 

33 whispers. 34 advise. ^ penurious. ^e beg. 
37 miserly fellow. 



THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER 



377 



Bot yit I trow alsone ^ that ye sail se, 90 
Gif I can craft to bleir yone carlis ee.^ 

* Schir, ane thing is, and ^ we get of yone 

pelf, 
Ye man tak travelH and mak us sum 

supple ; ^ 
For he that will not labour and help him 

self, 
In to thir dayis, he is not worth ane fle; 
I think to wirk as bessie ^ as ane be. 
And ye sail follow ane litill ef terwart. 
And gadder hering, for that salbe your 

pairt.' 

With that he kest ane compas far about, 
And strawcht "^ him doun in middis of the 

way, 100 

As he wer deid he feinyeit^ him, but dout,^ 
And than upouu lenth unliklie ^^ lay ; 
The quhite he turnit up of his ene tway; 
His toung out hang ane hand braid ^^ of his 

heid. 
And still he lay, als straucht as he wer 

deid. 

The cad gear fand the fox, and he was 

fane,i2 • 
And till him self this softlie can he say: 
' At the nixt bait,!^ in faith, ye salbe flane,^* 
And of your skin I sail mak mittenis 

tway.' 
He lapi^ about [him] lichtlie quhair he 

lay, no 

And all the trace ^^ he trippit on his tais;^'^ 
As he had hard ane pyper play, he gais. 

" Heir lyis,' quod he, * the devill deid in a 

dyke. 
Sic ane selcouth^^ saw I not this savin 

yeir; 
I trow ye haif bene tussillit with sum tyke,i^ 
That garris^o yow ly sa still withoutin 

steir:2i 
Schir foxe, in faith, ye ar deir welcum 

heir; 
It is sum wyfis malisoun,^^ I trow. 
For pultrie pyking,^^ that lichtit hes on 

yow. 

1 quickly. 2 If I know craft to deceive that fellow. 
8 if. 4 must take pains. 5 support. 6 busy. 

1 stretched. s feigned. 9 without doubt. 10 lay 
at length, helpless looking. n breadth. 12 glad. 
13 baiting-place. !■* flayed. i^ leapt. i^ way. 

17 toes. 18 strange thing. 19 worried by some dog. 
20 makes. 21 gtir, 22 curse. 23 stealing poultry. 



* Thair sail na pedder,^^ for purs, nor yit 

for glufis, 120 

Nor yit for pointis ^ pyke your pellet f ra 
me; 26 

I sail of it mak mittenis to my lufis,^'^ 
Till hald my handis hait ^^ quhair ever I 

be; 
Till Flanderis sail it never saill the se.' 
With that in hy,29 he hiut^o him by the 

heillis. 
And with ane swak ^i he swang him on the 

creillis. 

Syne ^^ be the heid the horss in hy hes hint; ^^ 
The fraudfuU foxe thairto guid tent hes 

tan 6,^-* 
And with his teith the stoppell,^^ or he 

stint,^ 129 

Pullit out, and syne the hering ane and ane 
Out of the creillis he swakkit^" doun gude 

wane.^^ 
The wolf was war,^ and gadderit spedilie ; 
The cadgear sang, * Huntis up, up,' upoun 

hie. 40 

Yit at ane burne the cadgear luikit about; 
With that the foxe lap quite the creillis 

fray; 41 
The cadgear wald haif raucht 4- the foxe ane 

rout,43 
Bot all for nocht, he wan his hoill ^^ that 

day. 
Than with ane schout thus can the cadgear 

say: 

* Abyde, and thow ane nekhering ^ sail haif. 
Is worth my capill, creillis, and all the 

laif.'46 X40 

* Now,' quod the foxe, ' I schrew me and 

we meit: 
I hard quhat thow hecht 4" to do with my 

skin. 
Thy handis sail never in thay ^8 mittenis tak 

heit, 
And thow war hangit, carle, and all thy 

kin! 
Do furth thy marcat; ^^ at me thow sail not 

win; 

2^ pedlar. 25 laces. 26 do me out of your skin. 
27 palms. 28 hot. 29 haste. so seized. 3i toss. 
32 Then. 33 seized. 34 has taken careful note. 

35 plug, lid. 36 ere he stopped. 37 threw. 38 to 
good purpose. 39 aware. *o in a loud voice, ^i from. 
42 reached. ^3 blow. ^4 hole. 

45 A blow; also apparently specially large herring 
laid on the top or neck of the basket. Cf. 11. 165-168. 

46 rest. 47 promised. 4s those. 49 market. 



378 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



And sell thy hering thow hes thair till hie 

price, 
Ellis thow sail win nocht on thy marchan- 

dice.' 

The cadgear trimmillit for teyne^ quhair 

that he stuid; 
' It is Weill worthie,' quod he, * I want 

yone tyke,^ 
That had not in my hand sa mekle gude 150 
As staf or sting,^ yone truker^ for to 

strike.' 
With that lichtlie he lap out ouer ane dyke, 
And hakkit doun ane staf, for he was tene,^ 
That hevie was and of the holyne ^ grene. 

With that the fox unto the wolf culd wend, 
And fand him be the hering, quhair he lyis; 

* Schir,' said he than, * maid I not fair de- 

fend ? ^ 
Ane wicht ^ man wantit never, and he war 

wyse; 
Ane hardie hart is hard for to suppryis.' 
Than said the wolf: 'Thow art ane berne^ 

full bald, 160 

And wyse at will, in gude tymei"^ be it tald. 

* Bot quhat was yone the carle cryit on hie. 
And schuik his hand, quod he, hes thow na 

feill ? ' 11 

* Schir,' said the foxe, * that I can tell 

trewlie ; 
He said the nekhering was in the creill.' 

* Kennis thow that hering ? ' * Ye, schir, I 

ken it weill, 
And at the creill mouth I had it thryis ^^ 

but dout; 
The wecht ^^ thair of neir tit ^^ my tuskis 

out. 

*Now, surelie, schir, mycht we that hering 

fang,i5 
It wald be fische to us thir fourtie dayis.' 
Than said the wolf, ' Now God nor that I 

hang,!^ 171 

Bot to be thair [ wald gif all my clays,!'^ 
To se gif that my wappynnis ^^ micht it rais.' 

* Schir,' said the foxe, ' God wait, I wischit 

yow oft, 
Quhen that my teith micht not beir it on 
loft. 

^ trembled for vexation. 2 I well deserved to miss 
that fox. 3 pole. 4 swindler. 5 angry. 8 holly. 
7 defence, s brave. « fellow. 10 indeed. n idea. 
12 thrice. i3 weight. i* tugged. i^ get hold of. 
16 G-od grant that I hang. " clothes, is weapons, teeth. 



* It is ane side of salmond, as it wair. 
And callour,!^ pypand like ane pertrik ee;^ 
It is worth all the hering ye haif thair. 
Ye, and we had it swa, is it worth sic thre.' 

* Than,' said the wolf, * quhat counsale 

gevis thow me ? ' 180 

* Schir,' said the foxe, * wirk efter my 

devyis. 
And ye sail haif it, and tak yow na sup- 
pry is.^i 

* First, ye mon cast ane compas far about, 
Syne straucht yow doun in middis of the 

way; 
Baith heid, and feit, and taill ye man 

streik 22 out, 
Hing f urth your toung, and clois weill your 

ene tway; 
Syne se your heid on ane hard place ye lay; 
And dout ^^ not for na perrell may appeir, 
Bot hald yow clois quhen that the carle 

cummis neir. 

*And thocht ye se ane staf, haif ye na 

dout, 190 

Bot hald yowwinder24 still in to that steid;^^ 
And laik your ene be clois, as thay war out. 
And se that ye schrink nouther fute nor 

heid: 
Than will the cadgear carle trow ye be 

deid, 
And in till haist^s will hint yow be the 

heillis. 
As he did me, and swak yow on his creillis.' 

' Now,' quod the wolf, * I sweir the be my 

thrift, 
I trow yone cadger carle he will me beir.' ^ 
' Schir,' said the foxe, ' on loft he will yow 

lift, 
Upoun his creillis, and do him litill deir.^s 
Bot ane thing dar I surelie to yow sweir, 201 
Get ye that hering sicker ^ in sum place. 
Ye sail not fair in fisching^*^ mair quhill 

pasche. 

* I sail say In principio upoun yow. 

And cros your corpis fro me the top to tay; 
Wend quhen ye will, I dar be warrand now 
That ye sail die na suddane deith this day.' 
With that the wolf gird up sone and to gay,^^ 

19 fresh. 20 shining like the eye of a partridge. 

21 no surprise take you. 22 stretch. 23 fear. 24 won- 
derfully. 25 place. 26 in haste. 27 Ed. Charteris 
reads, dow not me beir, dare not lift me. 28 harm, 

trouble. 29 secure. so go a-fishing. 3i goes. 



THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER 



379 



And kest ane compas about the cadger 

far; 
Syne straucht him in the gait,i or he come 

nar. 210 

He laid his half heid ^ sicker hard and sad,^ 
Syne straucht his foure feit fra him, and 

his heid, 
And hang his toung furth as the foxe him 

bad; 
Als still he lay, as he war verray deid, 
Rakkand ^ ua thing of the carlis favour nor 

feid,5 
Bot ever upoun the nekhering he thinkis. 
And quite forgetis the foxe and all his 

wriukis. 

With that the cadger, wavering as the wind, 
Come rydaud on the laid ,6 for it was licht, 
Thinkand ay on the foxe that was behind, 
Upoun quhat wyse revengit on him he 
micht; 221 

And at the last of the wolf gat ane sicbt, 
Quhair he in lenth lay streikit in the gait; 
Bot gif he lichtit douu, or not, God wait ! "^ 

* Softlie,' he said. * I was begilit anis; ^ 
Be I begilit twyis, I schrew us baith, 
That evill bot^ sail licht upoun thy banis. 
He suld haif had that hes done me the 

skaith.'io 
On hicht he hovit the stalf,^^ for he was 

wraith. 
And hit him with sic will upoun the heid, 
Quhill neir he swonit and swalt ^^ in to that 

steid.i3 231 

Thre battis he buir," or he his feit micht 

find, 
Bot yit the wolf was wicht, and wan away. 
He micht not se, he wes sa verray blind, 
Nor wit ^'5 reddilie quhether it wes nicht or 

day. 
The foxe beheld that service quhair he lay, 
And leuch on loft,i* quhen he the wolf sa 

seis, 
Baith deif and dosirnit,^'^ fall swounand on 

his kneis. 

He that of ressoun can not be content, 
Bot covetis all, is abill all to tyne.^^ 240 

1 stretched himself in the road. 2 side of his head, 
s solid. * recking. ^ feud. ^ load. ' knows. 
8 once. 9 reward. 10 harm. n On high he raised 
the staff. 12 died. i3 place. 1^ blows he bore. 
15, know. 16 laughed aloud. i^ dazed. is lose. 



The foxe, quhen that he saw the wolf wes 

schent,^^ 
Said to him selff , ' Thir hering sal be myne ' ; 
I le, or ellis he was efterwart fyne ^^ 
That fand sic wayis his maister for to greif : 
With all the fische thus Lowrence tuik his 

leif. 

The wolf was neir weill dungin to the 

deid,2i 
That uneith 22 with his lyfe away he wan, 
For with the bastoun ^3 weill brokin wes his 

heid. 
The foxe in to his den sone drew him than, 
That had betraisit ^^ his maister and the 

man : 250 

The ane wantit the hering of his creillis. 
The utheris blude was rynnand ouer his 

heillis. 

MORALITAS 

This taill is mingit ^ with moralitie. 
As I sail schaw sum quhat, or that I ceis: ^6 
The foxe unto the warld may likkinnit be, 
The revand wolf unto ane man but leis,^" 
The cadger deith, quhome under all men 

pre is : ^8 
That ever tuik lyfe throw cours of kynd ^ 

man ^'^ die. 
As man, and heist, and fische in to the see. 

The warld, ye wait, is stewart to the 

man, 260 

Qiihilk makis man to haif namynd of deid,^i 

Bot settis for wynning all the craft thay 

can; 
The hering I likkin unto the gold sa reid, 
Quhilk gart the wolf in perrell put his heid: 
Richt swa the gold garris landis and cieteis 
With weir^'-^ be waistit, day lie as men seis. 

And as the foxe with dissimulance and gile 
Gart the wolf wene '^'^ to haif worschip for 

ever, 
Richt swa this warld with vane gloir for 

ane quhile 
Flattens with folk, as thay suld failye 

never, 270 

Yit suddandlie men seis it oft dissever; 
With thame that trowis oft to fill the sek,^^ 
Deith cnmmis behind and nippis thame be 

the nek. 

19 defeated. 20 subtle. *i beaten to death. 

22 scarcely. 23 stick. 24 betrayed. 25 mixed. 
26 ere I stop. 27 truly. 28 contend. 29 nature. 
30 must. 31 death. 32 ^ar. 33 expect. 3« sack. 



38o 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



The micht of gold makis mony men sa blind, 
That settis on averice thair felicitie, 
That thay forget the cadger cummis behind 
To stryke thame, of quhat stait so ever 

thay be. 
Quhat is mair dirk ^ than blind prosperitie ? 
Quhaii'foii" I counsall miehtie men to haif 

mynd 
Of the nekheriug,interpreitin this kynd. 280 

THE TALE OF THE UPLANDISH 2 
MOUSE AND THE BURGESS « 
MOUSE 

EsoPE, myne author, makis mentioun 

Of twa myis, and thay wer sisteris deir, 
Of quham the eldest dwelt in ane bor- 
rous 4 toun, 
The uther wynnit uponland, weill neir,^ 
Solitar, qnhyle under busk, quhyle under 
breir, 
Quhylis in the corne, and uther mennis 

skaith,^ 
As outlawis dois and levis on thair waith.'^ 

This rurall Mous in to the wynter tyde 
Had hunger, cauld, and tholit ^ greit 
distres. 
The uther Mous that in the burgh can 
byde 10 

Wes gild brother and maid ane free bur- 
gess; 
Toll fre als, but custum ^ mair or les, 
And fredome had to ga quhair ever scho list, 
Amaug the cheis in ark,i° and meill in kist.^i 

Ane tyme quhen scho wes full and unfute 
sair,i2 
Scho tuik in mynde hir sister uponland, 
And langit for to heir of hir vveilfair. 
To se quhat lyfe scho had under the 

wand 13; 
Bairfute, alloue, with pykestalf in hir 
hand. 
As pure ^^ pilgryme scho passit out of toun, 20 
To seik hir sister baith ouer daill and doun. 

Furth mony wilsum ^^ wayis can scho walk 
Throw mosse and muir, throw bankis, 
balk,i6 and breir, 

1 dark. 2 country. 3 town. * borough, s dwelt 
in the country right near. 6 harm. 7 hunting. 

8 suffered. « without taxes. i" box. " chest, 
12 unfootsore, comfortable. i3 in the open. i* A 
very. is wild. 16 ridge. 



Scho ranne with mony ane hiddeous quaik,^^ 
' Cum furth to me, my awin sister deir. 
Cry peip anis ! ' i" With that the mous 
cryit, ' heir,' 
And knew her voce, as kinnisman will do, 
Be verray kynd;i^ and furth scho come hir 
to. 

The hartlie joy, God ! gif ye had sene, 

Beis kith '^° quhen that thir sisteris met; 30 
And greit kyudenes was schavvin thame 
betuene; 
For quhylis thay leuch, and quhylis for 

joy thay gret,2i 
Quhyle kissit s weit, quhylis in armis plet '^ 
And thus thay f ure, quhill '^^ soberit wes 

thair mind, 
Syne fute for fute^^ unto the chalmer wend. 

As I hard say, it was ane sober wane,^^ 
Of fog 2^ and fairn full febillie was maid, 

Ane sillie scheill 2" under ane steidfast stane, 

Of quhilkthe entres was not hie nor braid; 

And in the samin ^^ thay went but mair 

abaid,29 40 

Without [in] fyre or candill birnand bricht. 

For commounlie sic pykeris ^^ luf es not licht. 

Quhen thay werlugit thus, thir selie ^^ myse, 

The youngest sister unto hir butterie yeid, 

And brocht furth nuttis and candil iusteid 

of spyce; 

Gif this wes gude fair, I do it on thame 

besyde.22 

The burges mous prompit^^ furth in 

pryde, 
And said, ' Sister, is this your daylie fude?' 
* Quhy not,' quod scho, ' is not this melt 

rycht gude ? ' 

*Na, be my saull, I think it bot ane 
scorne.' 50 

' Madame,' quod scho, * ye be the mair 
to blame; 
My mother said, sister, quhen we were 
borne, 
That I and ye lay baith within ane wame: ^ 
I keip the rate ^ and custume of my dame, 
And of my leving in to povertie,^^ 
For landis haif we nane in propertie.' 

17 scream, is once. i' instinct. 20 shown. 
21 wept. 22 folded. 23 fared till. 24 keeping step. 
25 dwelling. 26 moss. 27 ^ fj-ajl shelter (sheiling). 
28 into the same. 29 without more delay, so stealers. 
31 these innocent, 32 let them judge (?) 33 started. 
34 womb. 35 style. 36 my being left poor. 



THE UPLANDISH MOUSE AND THE BURGESS MOUSE 381 



* My fair sister,' quod scho, * half me ex- 

cusit, 
This rude dyet and I can nocht accord; 
Till tender meit my stomok is ay usit, 
For quhylis I fair als weill as ony 
lord ; 60 

Thir widderit ^ pels and nuttis, or thay 
be bord,2 
Will brek my teith, and mak my wame full 

sklender,^ 
Quhilk wes befoir usit to meittis tender.' 

'Weill, Weill, sister,' quod the rurall Mous, 

' Gif it pleis yovv, sic thingis as ye se heir, 

Baith meit and drink, harberie and hous, 

Sal be your a win, will ye reraane all yeir; 

Ye sail it haif with blyith and merie 

cheir, 

And that suld mak the maissis^ that ar 

rude, 
Amang freindis, richt tender and wonder 
gude. 70 

* Quhat plesure is in f eistis delicate. 

The quhilkis ar gevin with ane glowmand^ 
brow ? 
Ane gentill hart is better recreat 

With blyith curage, than seith ^ till him 

ane kow: 
Ane modicum is mair for till allow,'^ 
Swa that gude will be kerver at the dais. 
Than thrawin ^ will and mony spycit mais.' 

For all hir merie exhortatioun, 

This burges mous had lytill will to sing, 
Bot hevilie scho kest hii- browis doun, 80 

For all the daynteis that scho culd hir 
bring. 

Yit at the last scho said, half in hething,^ 

* Sister, this victuall and your royall feist 
May weill suf&ce unto ane rurall beist. 

*Lat be this hole, and cum into my place; 

I sail to yow schaw be experience 
My Gude Fryday is better nor your Pace ; 1° 
Mydische weschingis is worth your hailP^ 

expence; 
I haif housis anew^^ of greit defence; 
Of cat nor fall-trap I haif na dreid.' 90 

*I grant,' quod scho; and on togidder thay 
yeid.^^ 

1 These withered. 2 ere they are bored. 3 belly 
full lean. ^ messes, food. 5 glooming, sullen. ^ boil. 
7 is more to be esteemed. 8 perverse. Harl. reads 

thrawin vult, ill-tempered face. 9 scorn. i" Easter. 
" whole. 12 enough. i3 went. 



In stubbill array ^* throw [rankest] gers^^ 

and corne, 

And under buskis ^^ prevelie couth they 

creip. 

The eldest wes the gyde and went beforne, 

The younger to hir wayis tuke gude keip.^'' 

On nicht thay ran, and on the day can sleip ; 

Quhill in the morning, or the laverock ^^ 

sang, 
Thay fand the toun, and in blythlie couth 
gang. 

Nocht fer fra thyne^^ unto ane worthie 

wane ^^ 

This burges brocht thame sone quhar thai 

suld be; 100 

Without God speid^i thair herberie wes tane. 

Into ane spence 22 with vittell greit plen- 

tie; 
Baith cheis and butter upone thair skelfis 
hie,23 
And flesche and fische aneuch, of freshe and 

salt, 
And sekkis full of meill and eik of malt. 

Efter quhen thay disposit wer to dyne, 
Withouttin grace thay wesche ^^ and went 
to meit. 
With all the coursis that cukis culd devyne, 
Muttou n and beif strikiu in tailyeis greit ; ^5 
And lordis fair thus couth thay counter- 
feit, no 
Except ane thing — thay drank the watter 

cleir 
Insteid of wyne; bot yit thay maid gude 
cheir. 

With blyith upcast and merie countenance, 
The eldest sister sperit at hir gaist,"^^ 

Gif that scho be ressone fand difference 
Betuix that chalmer and hir sarie^'^ nest, 
' Ye, dame,' quod scho, ' how lang will 
this lest ? ' 

' For evermair, I wait,^^ and langer to.' 

* Gif it be swa, ye ar at eis,' quod scho. 

Til eik^'-' thair cheir ane subcharge^ furth 
scho brocht, 120 

Ane plait of grottis ^^ and ane dische full 
of meill; 

1* Bannatyne MS. reads In skugry ay, In concealment 
ever. 1= grass. 16 bushes, i^ heed, i^ lark. i9 thence. 
20 dwelling. 21 i.e., without greeting their hosts. 

22 larder. 23 shelves high. 24 washed. 25 cut in 
great slices. 25 asked of her guest. 2? sorry. 2s wot. 
29 To increase. so second course. si hulled oats. 



382 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



Tbraf caikkis ^ als I trow scho spairit 
nocht, 
Aboundantlie about hir for to deill; 
And mane ^ full fyne scho brocbt insteid 
of geill,*^ 
And ane quliyte candill out of ane coffer 

stall, ^ 
Insteid of spyce to gust ^ thair mouth with- 
all. 

Thus maid thay merie quhil ^ thay micht 
na mair, 
And, * Haill, Yule, haill!' cryit upon 
hie. 
Yit efter joy oftymes cummis cair, 

And troubill efter greit prosperitie, 130 
Thus as thay sat in all thair jolitie, 
The spenser '^ come with keyis in his hand, 
Opinuit the dure, and thame at denner f and. 

Thay taryit nocht to wesche, as I siippose. 
But on to ga quha that micht formest 
win. 
The burges had ane hoill, and in scho gois, 
Hir sister had na hoill to hyde hir in; 
To se that selie mous it wes greit syn, 
So desolate and will of ane gude reid; ^ 
For veray dreid scho fell in swoun neir 
deid. 140 

Bot as God wald, it fell ane happy cace; 
The spenser had na laser ^ for to byde, 
Nouther to seik nor serche, to sker^^ nor 
chace, 
Bot in he went, and left the dure up 

wyde. 
The bald burges his passing weill hes 
spyde; 
Out of hir hoill scho come and cryit on hie, 
* How fair ye sister ? Cry peip, quhair-ever 
ye be ! ' 

This rural Mous lay flatling on the ground, 

And for the deith scho wes full sair dred- 

and,ii 149 

For till hir hart straik mony wofuU stound; ^^ 

As in ane fever scho trimbillit fute and 

hand; 
And quhanhir sister in sic ply^^ hir fand, 
For verray pietie scho began to greit,^^ 
Syne confoit hir with wordis humbill and 
sweit. 
1 Unleavened cakes. 2 fine bread, s jelly. « stole. 
5 tickle. 6 till. 7 butler, keeper of the spence. 

8 lacking good counsel. ' leisure, i" scare. " sore 
dreading. 12 pang. i3 such plight. 1* weep. 



' Quhy ly ye thus ? Ryse up, my sister deir. 
Cum to your meit, this perrell is over- 
past.' 
The uther answerit hir with hevie cheir, 
' I may no eit, sa sair I am agast, 
I had lever thir fourtie dayis fast, 
With watter caill ^^ and to gnaw benis or 
peis, 160 

Than all your feist in this dreid and diseis.' 

With fair tretie 1® yit scho gart ^"^ hir upryse. 
And to the burde thay went and togidder 
sat; 
And scantlie had thay drnnkin anis or twyse, 
Quheu in come Gib-Hunter, our jolie cat, i 
And bad God speid. The burges up with | 
that, 
And till the hole scho went as fyre of flint: 
Bawdronis IS the uther be the bak hes hint.^* 

Fra fute to fute he kest hir to and fra, 

Quhylis up, quhylis doun, als cant ^o as ony 

kid; 170 

Quhylis wald he lat hir run under the stra, 

Quhylis wald he wink, and play with her 

bukheid.2i 
Thus to the selie mous greit pane he did, 
Quhill at the last, throw fortune and gude 

hap, 
Betuix ane burde ^ and the wall scho crap. 

And up in baist behind ane parralling 23 
Scho clam so hie that Gilbert micht not 
get hir. 
Syne be the cluke^^ thair craf telle can hing, 
Till he wes gane, hir cheir wes all the 

better. 
Syne doun scho lap quhen thair wes nane 
to let 25 hir, 180 

And to the burges mous loud can scho cry; 
' Fairweill, sister, thy feist heir I defy ! ' 26 

' Thy mangerie is myngit ^ all with cair. 
Thy guse is gude, thy gansell 28 sour as 
gaU; 
The subcharge of thy service is bot sair. 
So sail thow find efterwart na faill.2'J 
I thank yone courtyne and yone perpall 
wall 
Of my defence now fra ane crewell heist. 
Almychtie God, keip me fra sic ane feist ! 

16 very thin broth. i» entreaty. i^ caused. 

18 Puss. 19 seized. 20 playful. 21 hide-and-seek. 
22 board. Bann. dressour. 23 partition. 24 claw. 
25 hinder. 26 renounce. 27 Thy feast is mingled. 
28 sauce. » without doubt. Bann. may Jail. 



ROBIN AND MAKIN 



383 



*Wer I into the kithi that I come fra, 190 

For Weill nor wo suld never cnmagane.* 

With that scho tuke hir leif and furth can ga, 

Quhylis throw the corne, and quhylis 

throw the plane; 
Quhen scho wes furth and fre, scho wes 
ful fane, 
And merilie markit ^ unto the mure : 
I can not tell how ef tirwart ^ scho f ure.^ 

Bet I hard say scho passit to hir den, 
Als warme as woll, suppose ^ it wes not 
greit, 
Full beiulyS stuffit, baith but and ben,"^ 
Of beinis and nuttis, peis, ry, and quheit; 
Quhen ever scho list, scho had aneuch to 
eit, 201 

In quyet and eis, withoutin ony dreid; 
Bot to hir sisteris feist na mair scho yeid.^ 

MORALITAS 

Friendis, ye may find, and ye will tak heid, 

In to this fabill ane gude raoralitie ; 
As fitchis myngit ® ar with nobill seid, 

Swa intermynglit is adversitie 
And als troubill, and sum vexatioun, 

With eirthlie joy, swa that na estait is fre 
That ar not content of small possessioun. 

And namelie^^ thay quhilk climmis up 
maist hie. 211 

Blissit be sempill lyfe withoutin dreid, 

Blissit be sober feist in qnietie: 
Quha hes aneuch, of na mair hes he neid, 

Thocht it be lytill into quantitie. 

Greit aboundance and blind prosperitie 
Oftymes makis ane evill conclusioim; 

The sweitest lyfe, thairfoir, in this cimtrie 
Is sickernes,!! with small possessioun. 

Thy awin fyre, my friend, sa it be bot ane 
gleid,i2 220 

It warmis weill, and Is worth gold to thee; 
And Solomon sayis, gif that thowwill reid, 

* Under the hevin thair can not better be. 

Than ay be blyith and leif in honestie.' 
Quhairfoir I may conclude be this ressoun: 

Of eirthly joy it beris maist degre, 
Blyithnes in hart, with small possessioun.^^ 

1 native place. 2 hastened. * Bannatyne, Char- 
teris and HsLTleian read Weill thairefter. 3 fared. 6 al- 
though. 6 comfortably. ^ both outer and inner room. 
8 went. 8 vetches mixed. 10 especially. " security. 
12 one coal. is The Harleian text has an additional 
stanza after line 219. 



ROBIN AND MAKIN 

ROBENE sat on gud grene hill, 

Kepand a ilok of f e ; i^ 
Mirry Makyne said him till,^^ 

* Robene, thow rew^^ on me; 
I haif the luvit lowd and still, 

Thir yeiris two or thre; 
My dule in dern bot gif thow dill," 

Doutless but dreid I de.' ^^ 

Robene answerit, * Be the rude,i^ 

Nathing of lufe I knaw, 10 

Bot keipis my scheip undir yone wid,20 

Lo quhair thay raik on raw: ^^ 
Quhat hes marrit the in thy mude, 

Makyne, to me thow schaw; 
Or quhat is lufe, or to be hide ? 22 

Fane wald I leir ^3 that law. 

* At luvis lair 2* gif e thow will leir, 

Tak thair ane a, b, c; 
Be heynd,^ courtass, and fair of feir,^® 

Wyse, hardy, and fre; 20 

So that no denger do the deir,^'^ 

Quhat dule in dern thow dre; ^^ 
Preiss the^^ with pane at all poweir, 

Be patient and previe.' 

Robene answerit hir agane, 

' I wait 3*^ nocht quhat is luve; 

But I haif mervell in certane 

Quhat makis the this wanrufe:^^ 
The weddir is fair, and I am fane, 

My scheip gois haill aboif; 32 30 

And ^^ we wald plajr us in this plane, 
Thay wald us bayth reproif.' 

* Robene, tak tent ^^ unto my taill, 

And wirk all as 1 reid, 
And thow sail haif my hairt all haill, 

Eik and my maidenheid. 
Sen God sendis bute for baill ^ 

And for murnyng remeid,^^ 
In dern with the, bot gif I daill,^^ 

Dowtles I am bot deid.' 40 

* Makyne, to morne this ilk a tyde,^^ 

And ye will meet me heir, — 

14 sheep. 15 to. " have pity. i^ My secret 
grief unless thou assuage. is surely I die. i^ cross. 
20 wood. 21 range in row. 22 loved. 23 learn. 
24 lore. 25 gentle. 26 look. 27 daunt. 23 what 
woe in secret thou endure. 29 Exert thyself, so wot. 
31 unhappiness. S2 all together above. 33 if. 34 heed. 
35 remedy for harm. ss compensation. 37 Unless I 
deal in secret with thee. 38 tomorrow this same time. 



384 



ROBERT HENRYSON 



Peraveiiture my scheip may gang besyd,^ 
Qiihill we liaif liggit ^ full ueir; 

Bot mawgre half I and I byd,* 
Fra thay begin to steir ; ^ 

Quhat lyis on hairt I will nocht hyd; 
Makyn, than mak gud cheir.' 

* Robene, thow reivis me roif ^ and rest; 

I luve bot the allane.' 50 

*Makyne, adew, the sone gois west, 
The day is neir hand gane.' 

* Robene, in dule I am so drest, 

That lufe wilbe my bane,' 

* Ga lufe, Makyne, quhair evir thow list, 

For lemman I lue nane.' 

* Robene, I stand in sic a styll ; ^ 

I sicht,' and that full sair.' 

* Makyne, I half bene heir this quhyle; 

At hame God gif I wair.' ^ 60 

* My huny, Robene, talk ane quhyle, 

Gif thow will do na mair.' 

* Makyne, sum uthir man begyle, 

For hamewart I will fair.' 

Robene on his wayis went 

Als licht as leif of tre ; 
Mawkin murnit in hir intent,® 

And trowd him nevir to se. 
Robene brayd atour the bent; ^^ 

Than Mawkyne cryit on hie, 70 

* Now ma thow sing, for I am schent! ^^ 

Quhat alis lufe at me ? ' ^^ 

Mawkyne went hame withowttin faill, 

Full wery eftir cowth weip. 
Than Robene in a ful fair daill 

Assemblit all his scheip. 
Be that sum pairte of Mawkynis aill 

Outthrow his hairt cowd creip ; 
He fallowit hir fast thair till assaill, 

And till hir tuke gude keip. 80 

* Abyd, abyd, thow fair Makyne, 

A word for ony thing; 
For all my luve it sal be thyne, 

Withowttin depairting. 
All haill thy harte for till half myne ^^ / 

Is all my cuvating; 
My scheip to morne quhill ^^ houris nyne 

Will neid of no keping.' 

1 stray. ">- while we lie (have lain). 3 confounded 
be I if I abide. ^ stir. s bereavest me of quiet. 

8 state. 7 sigh, 8 God grant I were. » desire. 
10 started across the moor, n lost. 12 What has love 
against me? i3 To have thy heart wholly mine. 1* till. 



* Robene, thow hes hard soung and say, 

In gestis and storeis auld, 90 

" The man that will nocht quhen he may 

Sail haif nocht quhen he wald." 
I pray to Jesu every day 

Mot eik 1^ thair cairis eauld. 
That first preissis ^^ with the to play, 

Be firth,!"^ forrest, or fauld.' ^^ 

* Makyne, the nicht is soft and dry, 

The weddir is warnie and fair. 
And the grene woid rycht neir us by 

To walk attour all quhair; 1® 100 

Thair ma na janglour 20 us espy. 

That is to lufe contrair; 
Thairin, Makyne, bath ye and I 

Unsene we ma repair.' 

* Robene, that warld is all away 

And quyt brocht till ane end, 
And nevir agane thairto perfay^i 

Sail it be as thow wend; 22 
For of my pane thow maid it play, 

And all in vane I spend; no 

As thow hes done, sa sail I say, 

Murne on, I think to mend.' 

* Mawkyne, the howp of all my heill,^^ 

My hairt on the is sett. 
And evirmair to the be leill, 

Quhill I may leif but lett;24 
Nevir to faill, as utheris feill, 

Quhat grace that evir I gett.' 

* Robene, with the I will nocht deill ; 

Adew, for thus we mett.' 120 

Malkyne went hame blyth annewche, 

Attour the holttis hair ; 25 
Robene murnit, and Makyne lewche;^^ 

Scho sang, he sichit^'^ sair; 
And so left him, bayth wo and wrewche,^^ 

In dolour and in cair, 
Kepand his bird under a huche,^® 

Amangis the holtis hair. 

THE GARMENT OF GOOD 
LADIES 

Wald my gud lady lufe me best, 

And wirk eftir my will, 
I suld ane garmond gudliest 

Gar mak hir body till.^*^ 

15 increase, i^ try. i7 woodland, is fold. i9 To 
walk about everywhere. 20 gossip. 21 by my faith. 
22 weened. 23 hope of all my health. 24 without 

ceasing. 25 Over the hoar hills. 25 laughed. 27 sighed. 
28 woeful and wretched. 29 clifE. so Cause to be 
made for her body. 



THE GARMENT OF GOOD LADIES 



38s 



Off he 1 honour suld be hir hud, 

Upoun hir heid to weir, 
Garneist with governance so gud, 

Na demyng suld hir deir.^ 

Hir sark ^ suld be hir body nixt, 

Of chestetie so quhyt, 10 

With scbame and dreid togidder mixt, 
The same suld be perfyt. 

Hir kirtill suld be of clene Constance, 

Lasit with lesum lufe,* 
The mailyeis of continuance ^ 

For nevir to remufe. 

Hir gown suld be of gudliness, 
Weill ribband with renowne, 

Purfillit ^ with plesour in ilk place, 
Furrit with fyne fassounJ 20 

Hir belt suld be of benignitie. 
About hir middill meit; 

1 high. 2 No censure should injure her. ' shift. 
* Laced with lawful love. ^ eyelet-holes of persever- 
ance. 6 Adorned. ^ fashion. 



Hir mantill of humilitie. 

To thoU 3 bayth wind and weit. 

Hir hat suld be of fair having,^ 
And hir tepat ^^ of trewth; 

Hir patelet of gude pausing; ^^ 
Hir hals ribbane ^ of rewth.^^ 

Hir slevis suld be of esperance, 

To keip hir fra dispair; 
Hir gluvis of gud govimance. 

To gyd hir fyngearis fair. 

Hir schone ^^ suld be of sickernes," 
In syne that scho nocht slyd; 

Hir hoiss of honestie, I ges, 
I suld for hir provyd. 

Wald scho put on this garmond gay, 
I durst sweir by my seill,^^ 

That scho woir nevir grene nor gray 
That set ^"^ hir half so weill. 



30 



40 



8 endure. » behavior. 10 tippet. 11 Her ruff of 
good thought. 12 neck-ribbon. i3 pity. " shoes. 
16 seal (?) happiness (?). i' became. 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



THE GOLDEN TARGE 

Ryght as the stern i of day begouth to 

schyne, 
Quhen gone to bed war Vesper and Lueyne, 

I raise, and by a rosere^ did me rest; 
Up sprang the goldyn candill matutyue, 
With clere depurit bemes eristallyne, 

Glading the mery foulis in thair nest; 

Or Phebus was in purpnr kaip^ revest 
Up raise the lark, the hevyns menstrale 
fyne. 

In May, in till a morow myrthfullest. 

Full angellike thir birdis sang thair hour is ^ 

Within thair courtyns grene, in to thair 

bouris, II 

Apparalit quhyte and red, wyth blomes 

suete ; 

Anamalit was the felde wyth all colouris, 

The perly droppis schake in silvir schouris, 

Quhill all in balms did branch and levis 

flete;5 
To part f ra Phebus did Aurora grete,^ 
Hir cristall teris I saw hyng on the flouris, 
Quhilk he for luf e all drank up with his 
hete. 

For mirth of May, wyth skippis and wyth 

hoppis, 
The birdis sang upon the tender croppis,'^ 
With curiouse note, as Venus chapell 
clerVis: 21 

The rosis yong, new spreding of thair knop- 

pis,^ 
War powderit brycht with hevinly beriall ^ 
droppis, 
Throu bemes rede, birnyng as ruby sper- 

kis; 
The skyes rang for schoutyng of the 
larkis, 
The purpur hevyn ourscailit in silvir slop- 
pis 10 
Ourgilt the treis, brahchis, leivis and 
barkis. 

1 star. 2 rose-garden. s garment. * services. 
8 float. 6 weep. "> tops. 8 buds. * beryl. 
10 spangled in sUver doublet. 



Doun throu the ryce^^ a ryvir ran wyth 

stremys, 
So lustily agayn thai lykand lemys,^^ 
That all the lake ^^ as lamp did leme of 
lieht, 30 

Quhilk schadouit all about wyth twynkling 

glemis ; 
That bewis ^^ bathit war in secund bemys 
Throu the reflex of Phebus visage brycht; 
On every syde the hegies raise on hieht,i^ 
The bank was grene, the bruke was full of 
bremys,^^ 
The stannerisi"^ clere as stern in frosty 
uicht. 

The cristall air, the sapher firmament, 
The ruby skyes of the orient, 

Kest beriall bemes on emerant bewis 
grene ; 
The rosy garth ^^ depaynt and redolent, 40 
With purpur, azure, gold, and goulis gent ^^ 

Arayed was, by dame Fflora the queue. 

So nobily, that joy was for to sene ; 20 
The roch ^i agayn the ryvir resplendent 

As low^ eulumynit all the leves scheue.^^ 

Quhat throu the mery foulys arraony. 
And throu the ry veris sounn that ran me by, 

On Fflorais mantill I slepit as I lay, 
Quhare sone in to my dremes fantasy 
I saw approach agayn the orient sky, 50 

A saill, als quhite as blossum upon 
spray, 

Wyth merse ^4 of gold, brycht as the stern 
of day; 
Quhilk tendit to the land full lustily, 

As falcounn swift desyrouse of hir pray. 

And hard on burd^^ unto the blomyt 

medis, 
Amang the grene rispis ^ and the redis, 
Arrivit sche; quhar fro anonn thare lan- 

dis 
Ane hundreth ladyes, lusty in to wedis, 

11 thickets. 12 in those pleasant gleams. i3 water. 
1* boughs. 15 on high, is the fish bream, i? gravel 
on the bottom. is garden. is fine red. 20 see. 
21 rock. 22 flame. 23 bright. 24 round-top on a 
mast. 25 aground. 26 



THE GOLDEN TARGE 



387 



Als fresch as flouris that in May up spre- 

dis, 
In kirtillis grene, withoutyn kelP or 

band is; 2 60 

Thair brycht hairis hang gletering on the 

strand is 
In tressis clere, wyppit ^ wyth goldyn 

thredis, 
With pappis ^ quhite, and middillis small 

as wandis. 

Discrive I wald, bot quho coud wele en- 

dyte 
How all the feldis wyth thai lilies quhite 
Depaynt war brycht, quhilk to the hevin 
did glete : ^ 
Noucht thou, [H]omer,als fair as thou coud 

wryte, 
For all thine ornate stilis so perfyte; 

Nor yit thou, Tullius, quhois lippis suete 
Off rethorike did in to termis flete : ^ 70 
Your aureate tongis both bene all to lyte,"^ 
For to compile that paradise complete. 

Thare saw I Nature, and [als dame] Venus 

quene, 
The fresch Aurora, and lady Flora schene, 

Imio, Appollo ^ and Proserpyna, 
Dyane the goddesse chaste of woddis grene, 
My lady Cleo, that help of Makaris^ 
bene,i° 
Thetes, Pallas, and prudent Minerva, 
Fair feynit^i Fortune, and lemand^ Lu- 
cina, 
Thir mychti quenis in crounis mycht be 
sene, 80 

Wyth bemys blith, bricht as Lucifera. 

There saw I May, of myrthfull monethis 

quene, 
Betwix Aprile and June, her sister ^^ schene, 
Within the gardying walking up and 
doun, 
Quham of the foulis gladdith al bedene; ^^ 
Scho was full tender in hir yeris grene. 
Thare saw I Nature present hir a gounn 
Rich to behald, and nobil of renounn. 
Off eviry hew that under the hevin that 
bene 
Depaynt, and broud^^ be gude propor- 



cioun. 



90 



» caul. 2 fillets. ' bound. * breasts. 5 shine. 
8 float in rhetorical terms. ^ too Inadequate. » Prob- 
ably for Latona. 9 poets. i" is. n tricky. 
" gleaming. i3 Plural. ^* In whom the birds rejoice 
all suddenly. i* embroidered. 



Full lustily thir ladyes all in fere ^^ 
Enterit within this park of most plesere, 
Quhare that I lay our helit ^' wyth levis 
ronk; 
The mery foulis, blisfullest of chere, 
Salust 1^ Nature, me thocht, on thair man- 
ere. 
And eviry blome on branch, and eke on 

bonk, 
Opnyt and spred thair balmy levis donk. 
Full low enclynyng to thair Quene so clere, 
Quham of thair nobill norising thay thonk. 

Syne ^^ to dame Flora, on the samyn 
wyse, 100 

Thay saluse, and thay thank a thousand 
syse;20 

And to dame Venus, lufis mychti quene, 
Thay sang ballattis in lufe, as was the 

gyse,2i 
With amourouse notis lusty to devise, 
As thay that had lufe in thair hertis 

grene; 
Thair hony throtis, opnyt fro the splene,^^ 
With werblis suete did perse the hevinly 
skyes, 
Quhill loud resownyt the firmament se- 
rene. 

Ane othir court thare saw I consequent, 
Cupide the king, wyth bow in handy bent, no 

And dredefuU arowis grundyn scharp 
and square; 
Thare saw I Mars, the god armypotent, 
Aufull and stenie, strong and corpolent; 

Thare saw I crabbit Saturn aid and haire,^^ 

His luke was lyke for to perturb the 
aire; 
Thare was Marcurius, wise and eloquent, 

Of rhethorike that fand the flouris faire; 

Thare was the god of gardingis, Priapus; 
Thare was the god of wildernes, Phanus; 

And lanns, god of entree delytable; 120 
Thare was the god of fludis, Neptunus; 
Thare was the god of wyndis, Eolus, 

With variand luke, rycht lyke a lord un- 
stable ; 

Thare was Bacus, the gladder of the 
table; 
Thare was Pluto, the elrich ^^ incubus, 

In cloke of grene, his court usit no sable. 

16 in company. 1^ covered, is saluted, i^ after- 
wards. 20 times. 21 guise, fashion. 22 from the 
heart, i.e. joyously. 88 hoar. 24 elvish. 



388 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



And eviry one of thir, in greue arayit, 
On harp or lute full merily thai playit, 
Aud sang ballettis with niichty notis 
clere: 
Ladyes to dance full sobiily assayit, 130 
Endlang ^ the lusty ryvir so thai mayit ; 
Thair observance rycht hevynly was 

to here; 
Than crap I throu the levis, aud drew 
nere, 
Quhare that I was richt sudaynly affray it, 
All throu 9, luke, quhilk I have boucht 
full dere. 

And schortly for to speke, be lufis queue 
I was aspyit, scho bad hir archearis kene 

Go me arrest; and thay no time delayit; 
Than ladyes fair lete fall thair mantillis 

greu[ej, 
With bowis big, in tressit hairis schene, 140 

All sudaynly thay had a felde arayit; 

And yit rycht gretly was I noucht af- 
frayit. 
The party was so plesand for to sene, 

A wonder lusty bikkir 2 me assayit. 

And first of all, with bow in hand ybent. 
Come dame Beautee, rycht as scho wald me 
schent; ^ 
Syne f olowit all hir dameselis yf ere,* 
With mony diverse aufull instrument, 
Vnto the pres; Fair Having wyth hir 
went, 
Fyne Portrature, Plesance, and lusty 
Chere. 150 

Than come Resoun, with schelde of gold 
so clere, 
In plate and maille, as Mars armypotent, 
Defendit me that nobil chevallere. 

Syne tender Youth come wyth hir virgyns 

ying, 
Grene Innocence, and schamef ull Abaising, 
And quaking Drede, wyth humble Obe- 
dience; 
The Goldyn Targe harmyt thay nothing; 
Curage in thame was noucht begonne to 
spring; 
Full sore thay dred to done a violence: 
Suete Womanhede I saw cum in pres- 
ence, 160 
Of artilye ^ a warld sche did in bring, 
Servit wyth ladyes full of reverence. 

1 along. i A wondrous pleasant strife. 8 harm. 
« together. e artillery. 



Scho led with hir Nurture and Lawlynes, 
Contenence,^ Pacience, Gude Fame, and 
Stedfastnes, 
Discretioun, Gentrise,'^ and Considerance, 
Leuefell ^ Company, and Honest Besynes, 
Benigne Luke, Mylde Chere, and Sobirnes : 
All thir bure ganyeis^ to do me gre- 

vance; 
But Resoun bure the Targe wyth sik con- 
stance, 
Thair scharp assayes mycht do no dures ^^ 
To me, for all thair awf ull ordynance. 171 

Unto the pres persewit Hie Degre, 
Hir folowit ay Estate and Dignitee, 

Comparisouu, Honour, aud Noble Array, 
Will, Wantonnes, Renoun, and Libertee, 
Richesse, Fredomm, and eke Nobilitee: 

Wit ye thay did thair baner hye display; 

A cloud of arowis as hayle schour lousit 
thay. 
And schot, quhill ^^ wastit was thair artilye, 

Syne went abak reboutit^ of thair 
pray. 180 

Quhen Venus had persavit this rebute, 
Dissymilance scho bad go mak persute, 
At all powere ^^ to perse the Goldyn 
Targe ; 
And scho that was of doubilnes the rute 
Askit hir choise of archeris in refute. ^^ 
Venus the best bad hir to wale^^ at large; 
Scho tuke Presence plicht ^^ anker of the 
barge. 
And Fair Callyng that wele a flayn " coud 
schute. 
And Cherising for to complete hir 
charge. 

Dame Hamelynes ^^ scho tuke in com- 
pany, 190 
That hardy was, and hende ^^ in archery. 
And brocht dame Beautee to the felde 
agayn; 
With all the choise of Venus chevalry 
Thay come, and bikkerit ^^ unabaisitly. 
The schour of arowis rappit on as rayn • 
Perilouse Presence, that mony syre has 
slayne. 
The batail broucht on bordour^i hard us by, 
The salt 22 was all the sarar suth to sayn. 

6 Restraint. ^ Gentleness. 8 Lawful. ' these 
bore arrows. ^ harm, n till. 12 balked. ^^ By 
all means, i* as a (last) resort (?) is choose, i^ sheet- 
anchor, chief anchor. i^ arrow. is Homeliness. 
19 skilled. 20 fought. 21 on the beach. 22 assault 



THE GOLDEN TARGE 



389 



Thik was the schote of grundyn dartis 

kene; 
Bot Resouu with the Scheld of Gold so 
schene 200 

Warlyi defendit, quho so evir assayit; 
The auf uU stoure ^ he manly did sustene, 
Quhill ^ Presence kest a pulder ^ in his 
eue, 
And than as a drunkyn man he all for- 

vayit :^ 
Quhen he was blynd the fule wyth hym 
thay playit, 
And banyst hym amang the bewis grene; 
That sory sicht me sudaynly affrayit. 

Than was I woundit to the deth wele nere, 
And yoldyn as a wofuU prisonere 

To lady Beautee in a moment space; 210 
Me thoucht scho semyt lustiar of chere 
Efter that Resoun tynt^ had his eyne 
clere, 
Than of before, and lufliare of face : 
Quhy was thou blynd it, Resoun ? quhi, 
allace ! 
And gert ~ ane hell my paradise appere, 
And mercy seme, quhare that I fand no 
grace. 

Dissymulance was besy me to sile,^ 

And Fair Callmg did oft upoun me smyle, 

And Cherising me fed wyth wordis fair; 
New Acquyntance embracit me a quhile, 220 
And favouryt me, quhill men mycht ga ane 
myle, ^ 

Syne tuk hir leve, I saw hir nevir mare : 

Than saw I Dangere toward me repair, 
I coud eschew hir presence be no wyle, 

On syde scho lukit wyth ane fremyt 
fare.^ 

And at the last departing coud hir dresse,^*' 
And me delyverit unto Hevynesse 

For to reniayne, and scho in cure me 
tuke. 
Be this the Lord of Wyndis, wyth wodenes,^^ 
God Eolus, his bugill blew I gesse; 230 

That with the blast the levis all to-schuke, 
And sudaynly, in the space of a luke, 
All was hyne '^ went, thare was bot wilder- 
nes, 
Thare was no more bot birdis, bank, and 
bruke. 



1 Warily. 2 attack. » Till. 

5 went astray. 6 lost. ^ caused. 

» strange look. 10 prepared herself 
18 hence. 



< powder. 
8 deceive. 



In twynkling of ane eye to schip thai went, 
And swyth ^^ up saile unto the top thai 
stent, 1^ 
And with swift course atour ^^ the flude 
thay frak;i6 
Thay fyrit gmmis wyth powder violent, 
Till that the reke ^^ raise to the firmament, 
The rockis all resownyt wyth the rak,^^ 
For reird^^ it semyt that the raynbow 
brak; 241 

Wyth spreit afErayde apon my fete I 
sprent ^o 
Amang the clewis,^! so carefull was the 
crak. 

And as I did awake of my suev[n]ing,22 
The joyfull birdis merily did syng 

For myrth of Phebus tendir hemes 
schene; 
Suete war the vapouris, soft the morowing, 
Halesum the vale, depaynt wyth fiouris yiug; 

The air attemperit, sobir, and amene;^^ 

In quhite and rede was all the felde be- 
sene,2-i 250 

Throu Naturis nobil fresche anamalyng. 

In mirthfull May, of eviry moneth queue. 

O reverend Chaucere, rose of rethoris all. 
As in oure tong ane flour imperiall, 

That raise in Britane evir, quho redis 
rycht. 
Thou beris of makaris the tryumph riall; 
Thy fresch anamalit termes celicall -^ 
This mater coud illumynit have full 

brycht. 
Was thou noucht of oure Inglisch all the 
lycht, 
Surmounting eviry tong terrestriall, 260 
Alls fer as Mayes morow dois myd- 
nycht ? 

O morall Gower, and Ludgate laureate, 
Your sugurit lippis and toimgis aureate, 

Bene to oure eris cause of grete delyte; 
Your angel mouthis most mellifluate 
Our rude langage has clere illumynate, 

And faire our-gilt oure speche, that im- 
perfyte 

Stude, or your goldyn pennis schupe^^ to 
wryte; 
This He before was bare, and desolate 

Off retborike, or lusty fresch endyte. 270 

13 swiftly. " hoisted. is over. is hastened. 

17 reek, smoke. i^ noise. i^ uproar. 20 sprang. 

21 gorges. 22 dreaming. 23 agreeable. 24 dressed. 

26 celestial. 26 shaped, prepared. 



390 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



Thou lytill Quair,^ be evir obedient, 
Humble, subject, and symple of entent, 

Before the face of eviry connyng wicht; 
I knaw quhat thou of retliorike hes spent; 
Off all hir lusty rosis redolent 

Is none in to thy gerland sett on hicht; 

Eschame thar of, and draw the out of 
sicht, 
Rude is thy wede, disteynit, bare, and rent, 

Wele aucht thou be afiret ^ of the licht. 



THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE 

QuHEN Merche wes with variand windis 
past 
And Appryll had, with hir silver schouris, 

Tane leif at Nature with ane orient blast; 
And lusty May, that muddir is of flouris, 
Had maid. the birdis to begyn thair houris ^ 

Amang the tendir odouris reid and quhyt, 

Quhois armony to heir it wes delyt; 

In bed at morrow, sleiping as I lay, 

Me thocht Aurora, with hir cristall ene, 
In at the window lukit by the day, lo 

And halsit ^ me, with visage paill and 

grene ; 
On quhois hand a lark sang fro the 
splene,^ 

* A walk, luvaris, out of your slomering, 
Se how the lusty morrow dois up spring.' 

Me thocht fresche May befoir my bed up- 
stude. 
In weid depaynt of mony diverss hew, 
Sobir, benyng, and full of mansuetude,^ 
In brycht atteir of flouris forgit new, 
Hevinly of color, quhyt, reid, broun and 
blew, 19 

Balmit in dew, and gilt with Phebus bemys, 
Quhill all the houss illumynit of hirlemysJ 

* Slugird,' scho said, * awalk ^ annone for 

schame. 
And in my honour sum thing thou go 
wryt; 
The lork hes done the mirry day proclame. 
To raiss up luvaris with conf ort and delyt, 
Yit nocht incressis thy curage to indyt, 
Quhois hairt sum tyme hes glaid and blis- 

full bene, 
Sangis to raak undir the levis grene.' 

1 book. 2 afraid. 3 prayers. ^ greeted, s from 
the heart, merrily. 6 benignity. ' gleams. ^ awake. 



* Quhairto,' quod I, * sail I upryss at mor- 
row. 
For in this May few birdis herd I sing ? 30 
Thai half moir cause to weip and plane 
thair sorrow. 
Thy air it is nocht holsum nor benyng;^ 
Lord Eolus dois in thy sessone ring;!*^ 
So busteous ^^ ar the blastis of his home, 
Amang thy be wis ^^ to walk I haif forborne.' 

With that this lady sobirly did smyll, 
And said, ' Upryss, and do thy observ- 
ance; 
Thow did promyt, in Mayis lusty quhyle, 
For to discryve ^^ the Ross of most ple- 

sance. 
Go se the birdis how thay sing and dance, 
Illumynit our" with orient skyis brycht, 41 
Annamyllit richely with new asur lycht.' 

Quhen this wes said, depairtit scho, this 
queue. 
And enterit in a lusty gairding gent; 
And than, methocbt, full hestely besene,^^ 
In serk and mantill [efter hir] I went 
Into this garth,^® most dulce ^' and redo- 
lent 
Off herb and flour, and tendir plantis sueit, 
And grene levis doing of dew doun fleit.^^ 

The purpour sone, with tendir bemys reid, 
In orient bricht as angell did appeir, 51 

Throw goldin skyis putting up his heid, 
Quhois gilt tressis schone so wondir cleir, 
That all the world tuke confort, fer and 
neir. 

To luke upone his fresche and blisfull face, 

Doing all sable fro the hevynuis chace.^^ 

And as the blisfull sonne of cherarchy^o 
The fowlis song throw confort of the 
licht ; 
The birdis did with oppin voeis cry, 

' O, luvaris fo, away thou dully nycht, 60 

And welcum day that confortis every 

wicht; 

Haill May, haill Flora, haill Aurora schene, 

Haill princes Natur, haill Venus luvis 

queue.' 

Dame Nature gaif ane inhibitioun thair 
To ferss Neptunus, and Eolus the bawld, 
» benign. 10 reign, n rude. 12 boughs. " de- 
scribe. 14 over. 15 hastily clad, le yard, i^ sweet. 
18 leaves swimming with dew. i9 doing chase = chasing. 
20 sound of the hierarchy (of angels). 



THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE 



391 



Nocht to perturb the wattir nor the air, 
And that no schouris, nor blastis cawld, • 
Effray suld flouris nor fowlis on the fold; ^ 
Scho bad eik Juno, goddis of the sky, 
That scho the hevin suld keip amene ^ and 
dry. 70 

Scho ordand eik that every bird and beist 
Befoir hir hienes suld annone compeir,^ 

And every flour of vertew, most and leist, 
And every herb be feild fer and neir, 
As thay had wont in May, fro yeir to 
yeir, 

To hir thair makar to mak obediens. 

Full law inclynnand with all dew reverens. 

With that annone scho send the swyft Ro 

To bring in beistis of all conditioun; 
The restles Suallow commandit scho also 
To feche all fowU of small and greit re- 
nown; 81 
And to gar ^ flouris compeir ^ of all f as- 
soun 
Full craftely conjurit scho the Yarrow, 
Quhilk did furth swirk^ als swift as ony 



All present wer in twynkling of ane e, 
Baith beist, and bird, and flour, befoir the 
queue. 
And first the Lyone, gretast of degre, 
Was callit thair, and he, most fair to 

sene, 
With a full hardy contenance and kene, 
Befoir Dame Natur come, and did inclyne, 
With visage bawld, and curage leonyne. 91 

This awf ull beist full terrible wes of cheir, 
Persing of luke, and stout of counte- 
nance, 
Ryebt strong of corpis, of fassoun fair, but 
feir,'^ 
Lusty of schaip, lycht of deliveranee,^ 
Reid of his cuUour, as is the ruby glance; 
On feild of gold he stude full mychtely, 
With flour delycis sirculit lustely.^ 

This lady liftit up his cluvis ^'^ cleir, 99 

And leit him listly ^^ lene upon hir kne, 

And crownit him with dyademe full deir, 
Off radyous stonis, most ryall for to se; 
Saying, * The King of Beistis mak I the, 
1 earth. 2 pleasant. « appear. « make. 5 appear. 

6 dart. 7 without peer. s motion. « This is the 

blazoning of the royal arms of Scotland. 10 claws. 

»i pleasantly. 



And the cheif protector in woddis and 

schawis;i2 
Onto thi leigis go furth, and keip the lawis. 

' Exerce justice with mercy and conscience, 
And lat no small beist suffir skaith ^^ na 
skornis 
Of greit beistis that bene of moir pis- 
cence ; ^^ 
Do law elyk ^^ to aipis and unicornis. 
And lat no bowgle,^^ with his busteous 
hornis, no 

The meik pluch ox^'^ oppress, for all his 

pryd, 
Bot in the yok go peciable him besyd.* 

Quhen this was said, with noyis and soun 
of joy, 
All kynd of beistis in to thair degre, 
At onis cryit lawd, * Vive le Roy ! ' 
And till his feit fell with humilite. 
And all thay maid him homege and 
fewte;i8 

And he did thame ressaif with princely 

laitis,i9 
Quhois noble yre is proeeir prostratis.^o 

Syne crownit scho the Egle King of Fowlis, 

Ajid as steill dertis scherpit scho his pen- 

nis,2i 121 

And bawd him be als just to awppis 22 and 

owlis. 

As unto pacokkis, papingais,^^ or cren- 

nis,24 

And mak a law for wycht ^ fowlis and 
for wrennis; 
And lat no fowll of ravyne do efferay,2S 
Nor devoir birdis bot his awin pray. 

Than callit scho all flouris that grew on 
feild, 
Discirnyug all thair fassionis and ef- 
feiris,^'^ 
Upone the awfuU Thrissill scho beheld. 
And saw him kepit with a busche of 
speiris; 130 

Concedring him so able for the weiris, 
A radius croun of rubeis scho him gaif, 
And said, ' In feild go furth, and fend the 
laif;28 

12 groves. IS harm. i* puissance. i" alike. 
16 wild ox. 17 plough ox. is fealty. 19 gestures. 
20 Perhaps " to spare the prostrate," proeeir ior pro- 
teir, from proiiger. (Gregor's note.) 21 quills. 
22 curlews. 23 parrots. 24 cranes. 25 powerful. 
26 affright. 2? qualities. 28 defend the rest. 



392 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



* And, sen thow art a king, thou be dis- 

creit; 
Herb without vertew thou hald nocht of 
sic pryce 
As herb of vertew and of odor sueit; 
And lat no nettill vyle, and full of vyce, 
Hir fallow^ to the gudly flour delyce; 
Nor latt no wyld weid, full of churlicheuess, 
Compair hir till the lilleis nobilness. 140 

* Nor hald non udir flour in sic denty 2 

As the f resche Ross, of cullour reid and 
quhyt;3 
For gife thow dois, hurt is thyne honesty, 
Conciddering that no flour is so perfyt. 
So full of vertew, plesans and delyt. 
So full of blisfuU angeilik bewty, 
Imperiall birth, honour and dignite.' 

Than to the Ross scho turnyt hir visage, 
And said, * O lusty doehtir most benyng, 

Aboif the lilly, illustare of lynuage,^ 150 
Fro the stok ryell rysing f resche and ying, 
But ony spot or macull doing spring; ^ 

Cum, blowme of joy, with jemis to be cround. 

For our the laif ^ thy bewty is renownd.' 

A coistly croun, with claref eid stonis brycht. 

This cumly queue did on hir heid incloiss, 

Quhill all the land illumynit of the licht; 

Quhairf oir me thocht all flouris did reiois, 

Crying attonis,^ ' Haill, be thou richest 

Ross! 

Haill, hairbis empryce, haill, freschest 

queue of flouris! 160 

To the be glory and honour at all houris ! ' 

Thane all the birdis song with voce on 
hicht, 
Quhois mirthfuU soun wes mervelus to 
heir; 
The mavyss song, * Haill, Roiss, most riche 
and richt. 
That dois up flureiss undir Phebus speir; 
Haill, plant of yowth, haill, princes doeh- 
tir deir, 
Haill, blosome breking out of the bind roy- 

all, 
Quhois pretius vertew is imperiall.' 

1 fellow, join herself. * estimation. 

' An allusion to the union of the houses of York and 
Lancaster by the marriage of Henry VII and Elizabeth, 
daughter of Edward IV. 

* Hinting at the efforts made to marry James IV to 
a French princess. ' Springing without stain. 

over the rest. » at once. 



The merle scho sang, * Haill, Roiss of most 

delyt, 169 

Haill, of all flouris queue and soverane; * 

The lark scho song, * Haill, Roiss, both raid 

and quhyt, 

Most plesand flour, of michty cullouris 

twane ; ' 
The nychtingaill song, * Haill, Naturis 
suffragene. 
In bewty, nurtour and every nobilness, 
In riche array, renown and gentilness.* 

The commoun voce upraiss of birdis small, 
Apone this wyss, ' O blissit be the hour 

That thow wes chosin to be our principall; 
Welcome to be our princes of honour, 179 
Our perle, our plesans and our paramour, 

Our peax,^ our play, our plane felicite, 

Chryst the conserf frome all adversite.' 

Then all the birdis song with sic a schout, 
That I annone awoilk quhair that I lay, 

And with a braid ^ I turnyt me about 
To se this court; hot all wer went away: 
Than up I lenyt, halflingis in affrey,!^ 

And thuss I wret, as ye half hard to for- 
row,ii 

Off lusty May upone the nynt morrow. 



LAMENT FOR THE MAKERS 12 

QUHEN HE WES SEIK 

I THAT in heill ^^ wes and glaidnes, 
Am trublit now with gret seiknes, 
And feblit with infirmitie; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me.^^ 

Our plesance heir is all vane glory, 
This fals warld is bot transitory. 
The fleshche is brukle,i^ the Fend is sle ; ^^ 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

The stait of man dois change and vary, 9 
Now sound, now seik, now blyth, now sary, 
Now dansand mirry, now like to dee; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

No stait in erd ^'^ heir standis sickir ^^ 
As with the wynd wavis the wickir,^^ 
[So] wavis this warldis vanite; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

8 peace. » start. i" half in affright. » before. 
12 Poets. 13 health. 1* The fear of death troubles me. 
15 frail. 16 sly. i^ earth. 18 secure. i» wicker, twig. 



LAMENT FOR THE MAKERS 



393 



Onto the ded ^ gois all estatis, 
Princis, prelotis, and potestatis, 
Baith riche and pur of all degre ; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me. 20 

He takis the knychtis in to feild, 
Anarmit under helms and scheild; 
Victour he is at all melle ; ^ 

Timor Mimor conturbat me. 

That Strang unmercifuU tyrand 
Tak[is] on the moderis breist sowkand 
The bab, full of benignite; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He takis the campion in the stour,* 
The capitane closit in the tour, 30 

The lady in hour full of bewte; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He spairis no lord for his piscence,^ 
Na clerk for his intelligence ; 
His awfuU strak may no man fie; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

Art, magicianis, and astrologgis, 
Rethoris, logicians, and theologgis, 
Thame helpis no conclusionis sle; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me. 40 

In medicyne the most practicianis, 
Lechis, surrigianis, and phisicianis, 
Thame self fra ded may not supple;® 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

I see that makaris amang the laif ^ 
Playis heir ther pageant, syne gois to 

graif;7 
Sparit is nocht ther faculte; ^ 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He hes done petnously devour, 
The noble Chaucer, of makaris flouir, 50 
The Monk of Bery,^ and Gower, all thre; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

The gude Syr Hew of Eglintoun, 
Ettrik,io Heryot, et Wyntoun," 
He hes tane out of this cuntre; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

1 death. « contest. » the champion in the battle. 

< puissance. * defend. « rest. f grave. 

8 profession. » i.e., Lydgate. 

10 So Bannatyne MS. ; Maitland MS. e( eik. 
H For all these poets see the notes to the Scottish 
Text Soc. edition. 



That scorpioim fell hes done inf ek 12 
Maister Johne Clerk, and James Afflek, 
Fra balat making and trigide; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me. 60 

Holland and Barbour he has berevit; 
Allace! that he nought with us levit 
Schir Mungo Lokert of the Le; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

Clerk of Tranent eik he has tane, 
That maid the anteris ^^ of Gawane; 
Schir Gilbert Hay endit has he; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He has Blind Hary, and Sandy Traill 
Slaine with his schour of mortall haill, 70 
Quhilk Patrik Johnestoun myght nought 
fle; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He hes reft Merseir his endite,^^ 
That did in luf so lifly write, 
So schort, so quyk, of sentence hie; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

He hes tane Roull of Aberdene, 
And gentill Roull of Corstorphin[e]; 
Two bettir fallowis did no man se ; 

Timor Mortis conturbat me. 80 

In Dunfermelyne he has done roune ^* 
With Maister Robert Henrisoun; 
Schir Johne the Ros enbrast ^^ hes he; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

And he has now tane, last of aw,^'^ 
Gud gentill Stobo and Quintyne Schaw, 
Of quham all wichtis hes pete ; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

Gud Maister Walter Kennedy 
In poynt of dede lyis veraly, 90 

Gret reuth it wer that so suld be; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

Sen he has all my brether tane, 
He will naught lat me lif alane. 
On f orse I man ^^ his nyxt pray be ; 
Timor Mortis conturbat me. 

i» has stricken and withheld. " adventures. 

1^ writing. is whispered. i« embraced. 

" all. 18 must. 



394 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



Sen for the deid renieid is iion, 
Best is that we for dede dispone,^ 
Eftir our deid that lif may we; 
Timor Mortis coutiirbat me. 



THE DANCE OF THE SEVEN 
DEADLY SINS 

Off Februar the fyiftene nycht, 
Full lang befoir the dayis lycht, 

I lay in till a trance; 
And then I saw baith Kevin and Hell: 
Me thocht, amangis the feyudis fell, 

Mahoun - gart cry ane dance 
Off schrewis ^ that wer nevir schrevin, 
Aganiss the feist of Fasternis evin, ■* 

To mak thair observance; 
He bad gallandis ga graith a gyiss,^ lo 

And kast up gamountis ^ in the skyiss, 

That last came out of France. 

*Lat se,' quod he, 'now quha begynnis ? ' 
With that the fowll Sevin Deidly Synnis 

Begowth to leip at auis. 
And first of all in dance wes Pryd, 
With hair wyld " bak and bonet on syd, 

Lyk to mak vaistie wanis ; ^ 
And round abowt him, as a quheill, 
Hang all in rumpillis to the heill 20 

His kethat^ for the nanis: 1*^ 
Mony prowd trnmpour ^^ with him trippit 
Throw skaldand fyre, ay as thay skippit 

Thay gyrnd ^^ with hiddouss granis.^^ 

Heilie harlottis on hawtane wyiss^^ 
Come in with mony sindrie gyiss,^-^ 
Bot yit luche 1® nevir Mahoim ; 
Quhill 1" preistis come in with bair schevin 

nekkis, 
Than all the feyndis lewche, and maid 
gekkis,^^ 
Blak Belly and Bawsy Brown.^^ 30 

Than Yre come in with sturt^*^ and stryfe; 
His hand wes ay upoun his knyfe. 

He brandeist lyk a beir • 21 
Bostaris, braggaris, and barganeris,^^ 
Eftir him passit in to pairis, 

All bodin in feir of weir; 23 

1 dispose. 2 Mahomet, i.e., the Devil. 3 rascals. 
4 the eve of Lent. 5 gallants prepare a masquerade. 
6 gambols. ' combed, s desolate dwellings. ^ cas- 
sock. 10 nonce, n deceiver. 12 snarled. i3 groans. 
1* Proud rascals in haughty fashion. i5 costume. 

1* laughed. i" Till. is mocks. i9 Two popular 
devils. 20 trouble. 21 swaggered like a bear. 

22 quarrellers. 23 arrayed in the likeness of war. 



In jakkis2-» and stryppis ^s and bonettis of 

steill, 
Thair leggis wer chenyeit -^ to the heill, 

Ffrawart wes thair affeir: -"^ 
Sum upoun udir with brandis beft,^^ 40 

Sum jaggit '^ uthiris to the heft, 

With knyvis that scherp cowd scheir. 

Nixt in the dance foUowit Invy, 
Fild full of f eid 3o and f ellony, 

Hid malyce and dispyte; 
Ffor pry vie hatrent ^^ that tratour trymlit. 
Him folio wit mony freik ^^ dissymlit, 

With fenyeit wirdis ^^ quhyte; 

And flattereris in to menis facis, 

And bakb}i;taris in secreit placis 50 

To ley 34 that had del}i;e ; 
And rownaris of fals lesingis;^^ 
Allace ! that courtis of noble kingis 

Of thame can nevir be quyte. 

Nixt him in dans come Cuvatyce, 
Bute of all evill and grund of vyce, 

That nevir cowd be content; 
Catyvis, wrechis, and okkeraris,^^ 
Hud-pykis, hurdaris, and gadderaris 3" 

All with that warlo ^^ went: 60 

Out of thair throttis thay schot on udder ^ 
Hett moltin gold, me thocht a fudder,"**^ 

As fyreflawcht^i maist fervent; 
Ay as thay tomifc-*^ thame of schot, 
Ffeyndis fild thame new up to the thrott 

With gold of allkin prent.^^ 

Syne Sweirnes,^ at the secound bidding, 
Come lyk a sow out of a midding, 

Full slepy wes his grunyie: *5 
Mony sweir bumbard belly huddroun,^ 70 
Mony slute daw ^' and slepy duddroun.^^ 

Him serwit ay with sounyie.^^ 

He drew thame f urth in till a chenyie,^ 
And Belliall, with a brydill renyie,^i 
Evir lascht thame on the lunyie : ^^ 

2* corselets. 25 strips. But Bannatyne MS. may 

be read scTyppis, bags. Neither is satisfactory. 

26 covered with chain-mail. 27 Wild was their 

behavior. 28 beat. ^ stabbed. so feud. 21 hatred. 
32 person. 3' words. 34 lie. 35 whisperers 

of false lies. 36 usurers. 37 Misers, hoarders, 

and gatherers. 38 wizard. 39 others. ^o great 

quantity (lit. 128 lbs.). " wildfire. *^ emptied. 

43 all kinds of coinage. «* Sloth. ^= visage. ^e lazy, 
tun-bellied sloven (Chalmers). ^^ jdie rogue. ^8 drab. 
49 care. so chain. ^i rein. 02 loin. 



THE PETITION OF THE GRAY HORSE, OLD DUNBAR 395 



In dance tbay war so slaw of feit, 
Thay gaif thame in the fyre a heit, 

And maid thame quicker of comiyie.^ 

Than Lichery, that lathly corss, 

Berand ^ lyk a bagit horss,^ 8. 

And Ydilness did him leid; 
Thair wes with him ane ugly sort,^ 
Full mony stynkand fowl! tramort,^ 

That had in syn bene deid. 



Than the fowl! monstir Glutteny, 
Off wame^ unsasiable and gredy, 

To dance he did him dress. 
Him followit mony fowll drunckart, 
With can and coUep,'^ cop and quart, 

In surffett and excess; 

Full mony a waistless wallydrag,^ 

With wamiss unweildable/ did f iirth wag, 

In creischei° that did incress; 99 

* Drynk ! ' ay thay cryit, with mony a 

gaip,ii 
The feyndis gaif thame hait leid to laip,i2 

Thair leveray ^^ wes na less. 

Na menstrallis playit to thame but dowt; 
Ffor glemen thair wer haldin owt, 

Be day, and eik by uycht, 
Except a menstrall that slew a man, 
Swa till his heretage he wan, 

And entirt be brief of richt. 

Than cryd Mahoun for a Heleand pad- 

yane; 1* 
Syne ran a feynd to feche Makfadyane, no 

Ffar north wart in a nuke; ^'^ 
Be he the correnoch ^^ had done schout, 
Erschemen^' so gadderit him abowt, 

In Hell grit rownie thay tuke. 

Thae tarmegantis/^ with tag and tatter, 
Ffull lowde in Ersche ^^ begowth to clatter. 

And rowp lyk revin and ruke ; -^ 
The Devill sa devit -^ wes with thair yell. 
That in the depest pot of Hell 

He smorit ^ thame with smuke. 120 

1 apprehension. ^ snorting, roaring. * stallion (?) 
Maitland reads bewkif, balky. * lot. ^ corpse. 

« belly. ' mug. 8 sloven. » huge bellies, lo grease. 
11 gape. 12 hot lead to lap. i3 livery, reward. 

14 Highland pageant. i5 nook, corner. is coronach, 
dirge. i' Ersemen, Gaels from the Highlands. 

18 termagants, fiends. i9 Gaelic. 20 croak like 

raven and rook. 21 deafened. 22 smothered. 



THE PETITION OF THE GRAY 
HORSE, OLD DUNBAR 

Now lufferis cummis with largess lowd,^^ 
Quhy sould not palfrayis thane be prowd, 
Quhen gillettis wil be schomd and sciiroud,^^ 
That ridden ar baith with lord and lawd?^ 
Schir, lett it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 26 

Quhen I was young and into ply ,2''^ 
And wald cast garamaldis "^s to the sky, 
I had beine bocht in realmes by,^^ 
Had I cousentit to be sauld. 10 

Schir, lett it nevir in tonn be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

With gentill horss quhen I wald knyp,30 
Thane is thair laid on me ane quhip. 
To colleveris ^^ than man I skip, 
That scabbit ar, hes cruik^^ and cald. 
Schir, lett it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

Thocht in the stall I be nocht clappit. 
As cursouris that in silk beine trappit, 20 
With ane new houss ^^ I wald be happit, 
Aganis this Crysthinmes for the cald. 
Schir, lett it nevir in town be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

Suppois I war ane aid yaid aver,^^ 
Schott furth our clewch"^ to pull the clever,^® 
And had the strenthis of all Streuever, 
I wald at YouU be housit and staid. 
Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald, 
That I suld be ane Yuillis yald ! 30 

I am ane auld horss, as ye knaw. 
That evir in duill dois drug 3" and draw; 
Great court horss puttis me fra the staw,^^ 
To fang the fog be firthe and fald.^^ 
Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

I haif run lang furth in the feild. 

On pastouris that ar plane and peild;^^ 

I mycht be now tein ^^ in for eild,^^ 

23 lovers come with plenteous generosity. 
2^ fillies will be protected and dressed. 

25 lewd, i. e., common. 

26 Yule jade, i. e., having nothing new to wear for 
Christmas, hence unfortunate, disgraced. 

2 7 in condition. 2s gambols. 29 near. 30 eat grass. 

31 coal-heavers, or better coal-aivers, colliers' horses. 

32 are lame. 33 housing, '■s spent jade. 35 Thrust 
out into the rough ravine. 36 clover. 37 drag. 
38 stall. 39 To crop the moss by field and fold. 
40 stripped. *i taken. 12 age. 



39^ 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



My beikis ar spruning he ^ and bauld. 40 
Schir, latt it iievir in toun be tald, 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

My mane is turned in to quhyt, 
And thairof ye haff all the wyt ! ^ 
Quhen uther horss had bran to byt 
I gat bot griss,^ cnype ^ gif I wald. 

Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald. 

I was nevir dautit ^ into stabell, 

My lyf lies bene so miserable, 50 

My hyd to ofPer I am abill 

For evill schom strae that I reive wald.^ 
Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald, 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

And yitt, suppois my thrift "^ be thyne, 
Gif that I die your aucht ^ within, 
Latt nevir the soutteris ^ have my skin, 
With uglie gumes to be gnawin.^*^ 

Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 60 

The court hes done my curage cuill,ii 
And maid me [ane] forriddiu muill; ^^ 
Yett, to weir trappouris ^^ at this Yuill, 
I wald be spurrit at everie spald.^^ 
Schir, latt it nevir in toun be tald 
That I sould be ane Yuillis yald ! 

RESPONSIO REGIS 
Ef tir our wrettingis, thesaurer,!^ 
Tak in this gi'ay horss, Auld Dunbar, 
Quhilk in my aucht with schervice trew 
In lyart ^^ changeit is in hew. 70 

Gar howss i'' him now aganis this Yuill, 
And busk ^^ him lyk ane beschopis muill, 
For with my hand I have indost 
To pay quhat evir his trappouris cost. 

THE DREGY OF DUNBAR MADE 
TO KING JAMES THE FIFTH 
BEING IN STIRLING 

We that ar heir in hevins glory. 
To yow that ar in purgatory, 
Commendis us on our hairtly wyiss; 
I mene we folk in parradyis, 

1 My eye-teeth are projecting high. 2 blame. ^ grass. 
* bite. 5 petted, e ill-kept(?) straw that I would take 
eagerly. 7 earnings. » in your possession. » shoe- 
makers. 10 gnawed (for softening and tanning), n has 
cooled ray spirit. 12 over-ridden mule. i3 trappings. 
" joint. 15 treasurer. « To grey. " clothe, is deck. 



In Edinburcht with all mirriness, 

To yow of Strivilling in distress, 

Quhair nowdir ^^ pleasance nor delyt is, 

For pety thus ane Apostill wrytis. 

O ! ye heremeitis and hankersaidilis,^ 

That takis your pennance at your tablis, 10 

And eitis nocht meit restorative. 

Nor drynkis no wyn confortative, 

Bot aill, and that is thyn and small: 

With few coursis into your hall, 

Buf^^ cunipany of lordis and knychtis, 

Or ony uder ^^ gudly wichtis, 

Solitar walkand your allone, 

Seing no thing bot stok and stone; 

Out of your panef uU purgatory. 

To bring yow to the bliss of glory, 20 

Off Edinburgh the mirry toun 

We sail begyn ane cairfull soun; 

Ane dergy ^3 devoit and meik, 

The Lord of bliss doing beseik 24 

Yow to delyver out of your noy,^^ 

And brmg yow sone to Edinburgh ioy, 

For to be mirry amang us; 

And sa the dergy begynis thuss. 

LECTIO PRIMA 

The Fader, the Sone, and Haly Gaist, 
The mirthfull Mary virgene chaist, 30 

Of angellis all the ordouris nyne, 
And all the hevinly court devyne, 
Sone bring yow fra the pyne and wo 
Of Strivilling, every court-manis fo, 
Agane to Edinburghis ioy and bliss, 
Quhair wirschep, welth, and weilfar is, 
Pley, plesance, and eik honesty: 
Say ye amen, for cheritie. 

RESPONSIO, TU AUTEM DOMINE 

Tak consolatioun in your pane. 

In tribulatioun tak consolatioun, 40 

Out of vexation n cum hame agane, 

Tak consolatioun in your pane. 

JUBE DOMINE BENEDICERE 

Oute of distress of Strivilling toun 

To Edinburcht bliss, God mak yow boun.^^ 

LECTIO SECUNDA 

Patriarchis, profeitis, and appostillis deir, 
Contessouris, virgynis, and marteris cleir, 
And all the saitt^" celestiall, 
Devotely we npoun tharae call, 

19 neither. 20 hermits and anchorites, 'i Without. 
«2 other. 28 dirge. «* beseeching. 2* annoy, pain. 
2« ready. " court. 



THE BALLAD OF KIND KITTOK 



397 



That sone out of your panis fell, 

Ye may in hevin heir with us dwell, 50 

To eit swan, cran, pertrik, and plever,^ 

And every fische that swymis in rever; 

To drynk with us the new fresche wyne. 

That grew upoun the rever of Ryne, 

Ffresche fragrant clairettis out of France, 

Of Angerss and of Orliance, 

With mony ane courss of grit dyntie : ^ 

Say ye amen, for cheritie. 

RESPONSORIUM, TU AUTEM DOMINE 

God and Sanct Jeill ^ heir yow convoy 
Baith sone and weill, God and Sanct Jeill, 
To sonce and seill,"* solace and joy, 61 

God and Sanct Geill heir yow convoy. 
Out of Strivilling panis fell, 
In Edinburght ioy sone mot ye dwell. 

LECTIO TERTIA 

We pray to all the Sanctis of hevin, 

That ar aboif the sterris sevin, 

Yow to deliver out of your pennance. 

That ye may sone play, sing, and dance 

Heir in to Edinbureht and mak gude cheir, 

Quhair welth and weilfair is, but weir; ^ 70 

And I that dois your panis discry ve ^ 

Thinkis for to vissy "^ yow bely ve 

Nocht in desert with yow to dwell, 

Bot as the angell Sanct Gabriell 

Dois go betwene fra hevinis glory 

To thame that are in purgatory. 

And in thair tribulatioun 

To gif thame consolatioun. 

And schaw thame quhen thair panis ar past, 

Thay sail till hevin cum at last; 80 

And how nane servis'-^ to haif sweitness 

That nevir taistit bittirness, 

And thairfoir how suld ye considdir 

Of Edinbureht bliss, quhen ye cum hiddir, 

Bot gif 1° ye taistit had bef oir 

Of Strivilling toun the panis soir; 

And thairfoir tak in patience 

Your pennance and your abstinence, 

And ye sal cum, or Yule begyn. 

Into the bliss that we ar in ; 90 

Quhilk grant the glorius Trinitie ! 

Say ye amen, for cheritie. 

RESPONSORIUM 

Cum hame and dwell no moir in Strivilling; 
Frome hiddouss hell cum hame and dwell, 

1 partridge and plover. 2 daintiness. ' Giles. 

* abundance and happiness. s without doubt. « de- 
Bcribe. ' visit, s soon. ' deserves. i" unless. 



Quhair fische to sell is non bot spirling; 11 
Cum hame and dwell no moir in Strivilling. 

Et ne nos inducas in temptationem de 
Strivilling: 

Sed libera nos a malo illius. 

Requiem Edinburgi dona eijs, Domine, 

Et lux ipsius luceat eijs. 100 

A porta tristitie de Strivilling, 

Erue, Domine, animas et corpora eorum. 

Credo gustare statim viuum Edinburgi, 

In villa viventium. 

Requiescant Edinburgi. Amen. 

Domine, exaudi orationem meam, 
Et clamor mens ad te veniat. 

OREMUS 

Deus qui iustos et corde humiles 

Ex omni eorum tribulatioue liberare digna- 

tus es, 
Libera famulos tuos apud villam de Stir- 
ling versantes no 
A penis et tristitijs eiusdem, 
Et ad Edinburgi gaudia eos perducas, 
Vt requiescat Strivilling. Amen. 

Heir endis Dunbaris Dergy to the Kingy 
bydand ^^ to lang in Stirling. 



THE BALLAD OF KIND KITTOK 

My Gudame wes a gay wif, bot scho was 

rycht gend,i8 
Scho duelt furth fer in to France, apon 

Falkland fellis; 
Thay callit her Kynd Kittok, quhasa hir 

Weill kend : 1^ 
Scho wes like a caldrone cruke ^^ cler under 

kellis;i6 
Thay threpit^" that scho deit of thrist, and 

maid a gud end. 
Efter hir dede,^^ scho dredit^^ nought in 

hevin for to duell; 
And sa to hevin the hieway dreidless scho 

wend, 
Yit scho wanderit, and yeid by "^^ to ane el- 
riche^^ well. 
Scho met thar, as I wene, 

Ane ask 22 rydand on a snaill, 10 

And cryit, ' Ourtane^^ fallow, haill ! ' 
And raid ane inche behind the taill, 
Till it wes neir evin. 

11 sprats. 12 dwelling. i* genteel. 1* knew. 
15 pot-hook. 19 head-dress. " insisted. is death. 
19 doubted. 20 went aside. *i fairy. « newt. 
23 Overtaken. 



398 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 



m 



Sa sclio had hap to be horsit to hir herbry,^ 
Att ane ailhous neir heviu, it nyghttit ^ 

thaim thare; 
Scho deit of thrist in this warld, that gert 

hir be so dry, 
Scho never eit, hot drank our mesur ^ and 

mair. 
Scho slepit quhill the morne at none, and 

rais airly; 
And to the yettis^ of hevin fast can" the vvif 

fair,6 
And by Sanct Petir, in at the yet, scho 
stain prevely: 20 

God Inkit and saw hir lattin in, and lewch ^ 
his hert sair. 
And thar, yeris sevin 
Scho levit a gud life, 
And wes our Lady is hen wif: 
And held Sanct Petir at stryfe. 
Ay quhill scho wes in hevin. 

Sche lukit out on a day, and thoght ryght 

lang^ 
To se the ailhous beside, in till an evill 

hour; 
And out of hevin the hie gait ^^ co wth ^^ the 

wif gang 
For to get hir anefresche drink; the aill of 
hevin wes sour. 30 

Scho come againe to hevinnis yet, quhen 

the bell rang, 
Sanct Petir hat hir with a club, quhill a 

gret clour ^^ 
Rais in hir heid, becaus the wif yeid^^ wrang. 
Than to the ailhous agane scho ran, the 
py char is ^^ to pour, 
And for to brew, and baik. 
Frendis, I pray you hertfuUy, 
Gif ye be thristy or dry. 
Drink with my Guddame, as ye ga by, 
Anys ^^ for my saik. 



HOW DUNBAR WAS DESIRED 
TO BE A FRIAR 

This nycht befoir the dawing ^^ cleir, 
Me thocht Sanct Francis did to me appeir, 
With ane religious abbeit^'^ in his hand, 
And said, ' In thiss go cleith ^^ the, my ser- 

wand ; 
Reffuss the warld, for thow mon^^ be a freir.' 
1 inn. 2 night overtook, s beyond measure. * gates. 
» did. 6 go. 7 stole. » laughed. » yearned. 
10 high road. " did. 12 lump, is went. 1* pitchers. 
" once. 16 dawning, i? habit, is clothe, i* must. 



With him and with his abbeit bayth I skar- ' 
rit,2o 

Lyk to ane man that with a gaist wes mar- 

rit:2i 
Me thocht on bed he layid it me abone, 
Bot on the flure delyverly^^ and sone 
I lap thairfra, and iievir wald cum nar it. 

Quoth he, ' Quhy skarris thow with this 
holy weid ? i r 

Cleith the thairiu, for weir ^3 it thow most 
neid; 

Thow, that hes lang done Venus lawis 
teiche. 

Sail now be freir, and in this abbeit preiche ; 

Delay it nocht, it mou be done but dreid.'^* 

Quod I, * Sanct Francis, loving be the till,^^ 
And thankit mot thow be of thy gude will 
To me, that of thy clayis^e ar so kynd; 
Bot thame to weir it nevir come in my 

mynd; 
Sweit Confessour, thow tak it nocht in ill. 

' In haly legendis haif I hard allevin,^^ 21 
Ma 28 Sanctis of bischoppis nor freiris, be sic 

sevin; 29 
Off full few freiris that hes bene Sanctis I 

reid; 
Quhairfoir ga bring to me ane bischopis 

weid, 
Gife evir thow wald my saule gaid ^® unto 

Hevin.* 

' My brethir oft hes maid the supplicationis, 
Be epistillis, sermonis, and relationis. 
To tak the abyte, bot thow did postpone; 
But ony process,^^ cum on thairfoir annone, 
All sircumstance put by and excusationis.' 

' Gif evir my fortoun wes to be a freir, 31 
The dait thairof is past full mony a yeir; 
For into every lusty toun and place 
Off all Yngland, frome Berwick to Kalice, 
I haif in to thy habeit maid gud cheir. 

'In freiris weid full fairly haif I fleichit,^2 
In it haif I in pulpet gon and preichit 
In Derntoun kirk, and eik in Canterberry; 
In it I past at Dover our ^^ the ferry 
Throw Piccardy, and thair the peple teich- 
it. 40 

20 was frightened. 21 geared. 22 actively. 23 wear. 
24 without doubt. 25 praise be to thee. 28 clothes. 
27 alleged. 28 More. 29 by a great deal . so guide. 
31 Without any ado. »2 flattered. as over. 



A NEW YEAR'S GIFT TO THE KING 



399 



* Als lang as I did beir the freiris style, 
In me, God wait, wes mony wrink i and wyle ; 
In me wes falset^ with every wicht to flatter, 
Quhilk mycbt be flemit^ with na haly watter; 
I wes ay reddy all men to begyle.' 

This f reir that did Sanct Francis thair appeir, 
Ane fieind he wes in liknes of ane freir; 
He vaneist away wtih st^-nk and fyrie smowk; 
With him me thocht all the hous -end he towk, 
And I awoik as wy ^ that wes in weir.^ so 

A NEW YEAR'S GIFT TO THE 
KING 

My prince in God gif the guid grace, 
Joy, glaidnes, confort, and solace, 
Play, pleasance, myrth, and mirrie cheir, 
In hansell ^ of this guid new yeir. 

1 trick. 2 falsehood. ' banished. * man. 
6 doubt. 6 As a first gift. 



God gif to the ane blissed chance, 
And of all vertew aboundance, 
And grace ay for to perseveir, 

In hansell of this guid new yeir. 

God give the guid prosperitie, 
Fair fortoun and felicitie, lo 

Evir mair in earth quhill thow ar heir. 
In hansell of this guid new yeir. 

The heavinlie Lord his help the send. 
Thy realme to reull and to defend, 
In peace and justice it to steir, 

In hansell of this guid new yeir. 

God gif the blis quhair evir thow bownes,'^ 
And send the many Fraunce crownes, 
Hie liberall heart, and handis nocht sweir,^ 
In hansell of this guid new j^eir. 20 



goest. 



reluctant. 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 



TRANSLATION OF THE .ENEID 

(i, Prologue 1-103) 

Laude, honor, prasingis, thankis infynite 
To the, and thi dulce ^ ornate fresche endite,^ 
Mast reverend Virgill, of Latyne poetis 

prince, 
Gemme of ingine ^ and fluide of eloquence, 
Thow peirles perle, patroun of poetrie, 
Rois,^ register,^ palme, laurer, and glory, 
Chosm cherbukle,® cheif Jflour and cedir 

tree, 
Lanterne, leidsterne,"^ mirrour, and a perse, 
Master of masteris, sweit sours and spring- 

and well, 
Wyde quhar our all ^ ringis thi hevinle bell: 

I mene thi crafty werkis curious, n 
Sa quik, lusty, and mast sentencious, 
Plesable, perfyte, and felable in all degre, 
As quha the mater held to foir ^ thar ee; 
In every volume quhilk the list do ^° write, 
Surmonting fer all uther maneir endite, 
Lyk as the rois in June with hir sueit smell 
The marygulde or dasy doith excell. 
Quhy suld I than, with dull forhede and 

vane,^^ 
With ruide engine and barrand emptive ^ 

brane, 20 

With bad harsk ^^ speche and lewit ^^ har- 
bour tong. 
Presume to write quhar thi sueit bell is 

rong. 
Or contirfait sa precious wourdis deir ? 
Na, na, nocht sua, hot knele quhen I thame 

heir. 
For quhat compair betuix midday and nycht. 
Or quhat compare betuix myrknes^^ and 

lycht. 
Or quhat compare is betuix blak and quhyte. 
Far gretar dif erence betuix my blunt endyte 
And thi scharp sugurat sang Virgiliane, 
Sa wyslie wrocht with nevir ane word in 

vane ; 30 

1 sweet. 2 writing. ' invention, imagination. 

* Rose. 6 standard. " carbuncle. ^ lodestar. 
8 Quite everywhere. » before. ^° it pleased thee. 

II empty. 12 barren, empty. 13 harsh. i* lewd, 
ignorant. ^^ darkness. 



My waverand wit, my cunnyng f eble at all, 
My mynd mysty, thir ma nocht myss^^ ane 

fall. 
Stra^'^ for this ignorant blabring im perfyte 
Beside thi polyte termis redemy te ; ^^ 
And no the les with support and correctioun, 
For naturall luife andfreindfull affectioun 
Quhilkis ^^ I beir to thi werkis and endyte, 
Althocht, God wait, I knaw thariu full lyte. 
And that thi facund^o sentence mycht be 

song 
In our langage als weill as Latyne tong — 40 
Alswele, na, na, impossible war, per de, 21 
Yit with your leif, Virgill, to follow the, 
I wald into my rural e vulgar gros. 
Write sura savoring of thi Eneados. 
Bot sair I drede for to distene 22 the quyte, 
Throu my corruptit cadens imperfyte; 
Distene the, na forsuith, that ma I nocht, 
Weill ma I schaw my burell busteous^^ 

thocht; 
Bot thi work sail enduire in laude and glory, 
Bot^^ spot or fait, conding^^ eterne memory. 
Thocht I ofiPend, onhermit ^^ is thine fame, 
Thyne is the thank, and myne sal be the 

shame. 52 

Quha ma thi versis follow in all degre. 
In bewtie, sentence, and in gravite ? 
Nane is, nor was, nor yit sal be, trow I, 
Had, has, or sal have sic craf te in poetrie. 
Of Helicon so drank thou dry the fluid 
That of the copiose flowith ^7 or plenitud 
All man 28 purches drink at thi sugurat 

tone,29 
So lamp of day thou art, and shynand mone, 
All utheris on force mon ^8 their lycht beg or 

borow. 61 

Thou art Vesper, and the day sterne at 

morow; 
Thou Phebus, lychtnar of the planetis all, 
I not ^° quhat dewlie I the clepe ^^ sail, 
For thou art al and sum, quhat nedis moir, 
Of Latyne poetis that sens ^^ wes or bef oir. 

18 there may not fail. i" A straw. is ornate. 

19 Which. 20 eloquent. 21 par Dieu. 22 sully. 
23 uncultivated, rough. 24 Without. 25 deserving. 
26 unharmed. 27 abundance. 23 must. 29 tun, 
wine-cask. 30 know not. 81 call. ^2 since. 



DEATH OF PRIAM 



401 



Of the writis Macrobius, sans fail, 
In his grete volume clepit Saturnail, 
Thi sawis in sic eloquence doith fleit,i 
So inventive of rhetorik flouris sueit 70 

Thou art, and hes sa hie prof und sentence 
Therto perfyte, but ony indigence, 
That na lovingis ^ ma do incres thi fame, 
Nor na reproche diminew thi guid name. 
But sen I am compellit the to translait, 
And nocht onlie of my curage. God wait, 
Durst interprise sic outragious foli, 
Quhar I offend, the les repreif serf ^ I; 
And at ^ ye knaw at quhais instaunce I tuik 
For to translait this mast excellent buik, 80 
I mene Virgilis volume maist excellent, 
Set^ this my werk full feble be of rent,^ 
At the request of ane lorde of renowne, 
Of ancistry noble and illuster barowne. 
Fader of bukis, protectour to science and 

lare,^ 
My speciall gude lord Henry Lord Sanct 

Clair, 
Quhilk with grete instance divers tymes seir,^ 
Prayit me translait Virgill or Onieir; 
Quhais plesour suithlie as I understuid, 
As neir coniunct ^ to his lordschip in bluid. 
So that me thocht his requeist ane com- 
mand, 91 
Half disparit^'' this wavk tuik on hand, 
Nocht fullie grantand, nor anis sayand ye,!^ 
Bot onelie to assay quhow it mycht be. 
Quha mycht ganesay a Yord sa gentle and 

kynd. 
That evir hed ony curtasy in thair mynd, 
Quhilk beside his innative ^^ polecy, 
Humanite, curaige, fredome, and chevalry, 
Bukis to recollect, to reid and se, 
Hes greit delite als evir hed Ptolome ? 100 
Quharfor to his nobilite and estaite, 
Quhat so it be, this buik I dedicaite. 
Writing in the language of Scottis natioun, 
And thus I mak my protestacioun. 

DEATH OF PRIAM 

(II, chap, ix) 

Peraventur, of Priamus ye wald speir ^^ 
How tyde ^^ the chance ; his fait, gif ye list, 

heir. 
Quhen he the cietie saw takin and doun bet,^^ 
And of his palice brokin every yet,^^ 

1 float. 2 praising. * deserve. ^ that. 5 Suppose. 
« value. 7 learning. » several. ^ allied. i" in 
despair. n once saying "yea." "inborn. i3 ask. 
i< b6tided. is beaten. is gate. 



Amyd the secrete closettis eik his fais,i' 
The aid gray ^^ all for nocht, to him 

tays 19 
His hawbrek quhilk was lang furth of 

usage,2o 
Set on his shoulderis trymbling than for 

age; 
A swerd, but help, about him beltis he, 
And ran towart his fais, reddy to de. 10 

Amyd the cloiss,^i under the hevin all bair, 
Stude thair that tyrae a mekle fair altair, 
Neir quhame thar grew a rycht auld laurer 

tree. 
Bo wand towart the altair a little wee,^^ 
That with his schaddow the goddis did our- 

heild.23 
Hecuba thidder, with hir childir, for beild *^ 
Ran all in vane, and about the altair 

swarmis, 
Brasand ^ the godlik ymage in thair armis, 
As for the storme dowis ^6 flockis togidder 

ilkane.^'^ 19 

Bot quhen scho saw how Priamus hes tane 
His armour, so as thoch he had bene yiug: 
• Quhat fulich ^s thocht, my wrechit spous 

and king, 
Mo vis ye now sic wapnis for to weild ? 
Quhidder haistis thou ? ' quod scho, * Of 

na sic beild ^ 
Have we now mister,^'' nor yit defendouris 

as ye. 
The tyme is nocht ganand ^^ thairto, we se. 
In caice Hector war present heir, my sone, 
He mycht nocht succour Troy, for it is 

wone. 
Quhairfoir, I pray ye, sit doun and cum 

hiddir. 
And lat this altair salf ^^ ^s all togiddir, 30 
Or than at anis all heir lat us de.' 
Thus said scho, and, with sic sembland ^ as 

mycht be. 
Him towart hir hes brocht, bot ony threte,^ 
And sete the auld doun in the haly sete. 

But lo ! Polites, ane of Priamus sonnis, 
Quhilk fra the slauchter of Pirrus away 

run is, 
Throw wapnis fleing and his enemyis all. 
By lang throwgangis ^ and mony voyd hall; 
Woundit he was, and come to seek reskew; 
Ardentlie Pirrus can him fast persew, 40 

1^ His foe even in the secret chambers. is old gray 
(man). i9 takes. 20 out of use. 21 courtyard. 
22 way. 23 protect. 24 shelter. 25 Embracing. 
26 doves. 27 each one. 28 foolish. 29 protection. 

30 need, si advantageous. 32 save. 33 appearance 

31 without any threat. 35 passages. 



402 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 



With grundin lance at hand so neir furth 

strykit, 
Almaist he haid him tuichit and arrekit.i 
QuhilP at the last, quhen he is cumin, I 

wene, 
Befoir his faderis and his moderis ene,^ 
Smate him doun deid, in thair sycht quhar 

he stude, 
The gaist he yald^ with habundanee of 

blude. 
Priamus than, thocht he was half deil^ deid, 
Mycht nocht contene his ii-e nor wordis of 

feid,6 
Bot cryis furth: 'For that cruell offence, 
And outrageous fuile-hardy violence, 50 
Gif thair be pietie in the hevin aboun 
Quhilk takis heid to this that thou hes 

doun, 
The goddis mocht condingly the foryeld,'^ 
Eftir thi desert rendring sic ganyeld,^ 
Causit me behald my awine child slane, 

allace ! 
And with his blude filit his faderis face. 
Bot he, quham by thou fenys^ thiself byget, 
Achill, was nocht to Priame sa hart set; 
For he, of right and faith eschamit ^*^ eik, 
Quhen that I come him lawlie to beseik, 60 
The deid body of Hector rendrit me. 
And me convoit hame to my citie.' 
Thus sayand, the auld waiklie, but force or 

dynt, 
A dart did cast, quhilk, with a pik,ii can 

stynti2 
On his harnys, and in the scheild did hing. 
But ony harme or uthir dammaging. 
Quod Pirrus, * Allwais sen thou sais swa, 
To Pilleus sone, my fadir, thou most ga; 
Ber him this message, ramember weil thou 

tell 
Him all my.werkis and deidis sa cruell. 70 
Schaw Neoptolemus is degenerit clene; 
Now sail thou dee.' And with that word, 

in tene,!^ 
The auld trumbling towart the altair he 

drew, 
That in the hate blude of his sone, sched 

new, 
Funderit;!^ and Pirrus grippis him by the 

hair 
With his left hand, and with the udir^^ all 

bair 

1 reached. 2 Till. ' eyes. * yielded. 5 part. 
« feud, hostility. ^ must punish thee according to thy 
deserts. s recompense. « by whom thou feignest. 
w ashamed. " peck. " did stop. is auger. 
" Stumbled. » other. 



Drew furth his schynand swerd, quhilk in 

his syde 
Festynnit,!^ and unto the hiltis did it hyde. 

Of Priamus thus was the finale fait;^^ 
Fortune heir endit his glorius estait. 80 

Seand^s Ilion all birning in firis broun, 
And Troyis wallis fall and tumblit doun; 
That riall prince, umquhill,!^ our^o Asia, 
Apone sa fell 21 pepill and ralmis^^ alsua 
Ringit^^ in weltht, now by the coist^"* lyis 

deid 
Bot as ane stok, and of hakkit^^ his heid; 
A corps, but 26 life, renowne, or uthir fame, 
Unknawin of ony wycht quhat was his name. 



MORNING IN MAY 

(Prologue to the Twelfth Book of the ^neid) 

Dyonea,27 nycht hyrd, and wach of day, 
The starnis chasit of the hevin away. 
Dame Cynthea doun rolling in the see. 
And Venus lost the bewte of hir e, 
Fleand eschamyt^s within Cylenyus^^ cave; 
Mars oubydrew,3° for all his grundin glave,^* 
Nor frawart ^^ Saturn, from his mortall 

speyr,^ 
Durst langar in the firmament appeir, 
Bot stall abak yond in his regioun far 
Behynd the circulat warld of Jupiter; 10 
Nycthemyne,^^ afPrayit of the lycht. 
Went undir covert, for gone was the nycht; 
As fresch Aurora, to mychty Tythone spous, 
Ischit^^ of hir safron bed and evir^^ hous, 
In crammysin^" cled and granit^^ violat, 
With sanguyne cape, and selvage purpurat,^ 
Onschot the windois of hir large hall, 
Spred all wyth rosys, and full of balm ryall. 
And eik the hevinly portis crystallyne 
Upwarpis braid,^° the warld to illumyn. 20 
The twinkling stremowris ^^ of the orient 
Sched purpour sprangis^ with gold and 

asure ment,^^ 
Persand^^ the sabill barmkyn^ nocturnall, 
Bet doun the skyis clowdy mantill wall: 
Ecus the steid, with ruby hamis ^^ reid, 
Abuf the seyis^'^ lyftis furth his heid. 



16 Stuck. " fate. 18 Seeing. is formerly. 

20 over. 21 many. 22 realms. 23 Reigned. 24 coast. 
25 bicked off. 26 without. 2? Venus (as evening and 
morning star). 28 ashamed. 29 Mercury's. 30 with- 
drew. 31 sharp ground sword. '2 perverse. 33 deadly 
sphere. S4 Nyctimene. See Ovid, Tlfefa. ii, 590. 's is- 
sued. 36 ivory. 37 crimson cloth. 3s deep dyed. 
39 purple. *o Opens wide. *i streamers. <2 rays. 
" mixed. ** Piercing. 45 battlement. *6 hames 
— part of a horse-collar. *'' Above the seas. 



MORNING IN MAY 



403 



Of cullour soyr,^ and sum deill broun as 

berry, 
For to alichtyn and glaid our emyspery, 
The flambe owtbrastyng at his neys tbyrlys ;2 
Sa fast Phaeton wyth the quhip him 

quhirlys, 30 

To roll Apollo his faderis goldin chair, 
That schrowdyth all the hevymiis and the 

ayr; 
Quhill ^ schortly, with the blesand ^ torch of 

day, 
Abilyeit^ in his lemand^ fresch array, 
Furth of hys palyce ryall ischyt Phebus, 
Wyth goldin croun and vissage gloryus, 
Crysp" hairis, brycht as chrysolite or to- 

pace. 
For quhais hew mycht nane behald his 

face. 
The fyry sparkis brastyng fra his ene. 
To purge the ayr, and gylt the tendyr 

grene, 40 

Defundand^ from hys sege^ etheriall 
Glaid influent aspectis celicall.^*^ 
Before his regale hie magnificens 
Mysty vapour upspringand, sweit as sens,^^ 
In smoky soppis^^ of donk dewis wak,i^ 
Moich hailsum stovis ourheildand the slak ;14 
The aureat fanys^^ of hys trone soverane 
With glytrand glans ourspred the oeciane, 
The large flndis lemand all of lycht 
Bot with a blenki^ of his supernale sycht. 50 
For to beliald, it was a gloir to se 
The stabillit^" wyndis and the cawmyt^^ see, 
The soft sessouii, the firmament serene, 
The lownei^ illumynat air, the fyrth amene ;2^ 
The sylver scalit f ysehis on the greit^i 
Ourthwort^'^cleir stremis sprynkland^^ for 

the heyt, 
Wyth fynnis schynand broun as synopar,^* 
And chysselP^ talis, stowrand^s heyr and 

thar; 
The new cullonr alychtnyng all the landis, 
Forgane tbir stannyris ■^'^ scliane the beryall 

strandis, 60 

Quhill the reflex of the diurnal beniis 
The bene bonkis^s kest ful of variant glemis. 
And lusty Flora did hir blomis spreid 
Under the feit of Phebus sulyart^ steid; 

1 sorrel. 2 nostrils. ' Till. * blazing. « Attired. 
« gleaming. 7 Curly, s Pouring. 9 seat. 10 celes- 
tial. 11 incense. ^^ clouds. i3 wet. " Moist 
wholesome mists covering the swamp. is The golden 
vanes, is glance, i' stilled, is calmed sea. i^ quiet. 
»o woodland pleasant. 21 gravel. 22 Athwart. 

23 darting. 24 cinnabar. 2^ shaped like chisels. 

2« rushing. ^^ Opposite these gravelly shores. 28 pleas- 
ant banks. 29 gleaming. 



The swardit soyll enbroud wyth selcouth ^^ 

he wis 
Wod and forest obumbrat^^ with thar bewis, 
Quhois blissf ull branchis, porturat ^^ on the 

grund. 
With schaddois schene schew rochis ruby- 

cuud: 
Towris, turattis, kyrnellis,^^ pynnaclis hie 
Of kirkis, castellis, and ilke fair cite, 70 
Stude payntit, every fyall, fane, and stage,^^ 
Apon tlie plane grund, by thar a win um- 
brage. 
Of Eolus north blastis havand no dreyd, 
The sulye^^ spred hyr braid bosum on 

breid,36 
Zephyrus' confortabill inspiratioun 
For till ressave law in hyr barm 3" adoun; 
The corn is croppis^^ and the beris new 

brerd ^ 
Wyth glaidsum garmond revesting the erd ; 

50 tiiik the plantis sprang in every pece, 79 
The feyldis ferleis^^ of thar fructuus flece; 
Byssy dame Ceres, and proud Pryapus, 
Rejosyng of the planis plenteus, 

Plenyst ^^ sa plesand and maist propirly, 
By nature nurist wondir nobilly. 
On the fertill skyrt lappis of the ground 
Streking^2 on breid ondyr the cirkill round. 
The variant vestur of the venust vaill'*^ 
Schrowdis the scherald f urj^-'aiid every faill^^ 
Ourfret with fulyeis^^ of figuris full divers, 
The spray bysprent with spryngand sproutis 

dispers ;,4^ 9c 

For callour^^ humour on the dewy nycht, 
Rendryng^^ sum place the gers pilis^^ thar 

hycht 
Als far as catal, the lang symmeris day, 
Had in thar pastur ey t and knyp ^^ away ; 
And blisfull blossummis in the blomyt yard 
Submittis thar hedis in the yong sonnis 

salf gard ; 
Ive levis rank ourspred the barmkin'^^ wall. 
The bloomyt hawthorn cled his pikis^^ all; 
Furth of fresch burgionis the wyne grapis 

ying ^ _ 99 

Endlang the treilyeis dyd on twystis hing. 
The lovvkyt buttonis^^ on the gemmyt treis 
Ourspredand leyvis of naturis tapestreis; 

so strange. 3i shaded. 32 portrayed. 33 crenel- 
ations. 34 pinnacle, vane, and storej'. 35 soil. 

36 abroad. 3? low in her bosom. 38 tops. 39 barley 
newly sprouted. ^o wonder. ^i Replenished. 

42 Stretching. ^3 pleasant vale. *4 new mown furrow. 
45 turf. « Adorned with leaves. ^7 ^ere and there. 
48 refreshing. 49 Restoring. so grass blades. 

51 cropped. 52 rampart. 53 prickles, twigs. 64 un- 
opened buds. 



404 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 



Soft gresy verdour eftir balmy schowris 
On ciirland stalkis smyling to thar flowiis; 
Behaldand thame sa raony divers hew, 
Sum persji sum paill, sum burnet,^ and sum 

blew, 
Sum grece,^ sum gowlis,^ sum purpour, sum 

sang wane, 
Blanchit or broune, fawch^ yallow mony 

ane, 
Sum hevynly cullorit in celestiall gre,^ 109 
Sum wattry hewit as the haw wally see,'^ 
And sum depart ^ in frekly ® red and 

quhyte. 
Sum brycht as gold with aureat levis lyte. 
The dasy dyd on breid^*^ hir crownell smaill 
And every flour onlappit^^ in the daill; 
In battill gyrs bnrgionys the ban wart wyld,!^ 
The clavyr, catcluke/^and the cammamyld; 
The flour delice furth spred his hevinly 

hew, 
Flour dammes,^^ and columby blank ^^ and 

blew; 
Seyr ^^ downis smaill on dent de lion sprang, 
The ying grene blomyt straberry levis 

amang; 120 

Gymp gerraflouris^'^ thar royn^^ levys un- 

schet, 
Fresche prymros, and the purpour violet; 
The roys knoppis, tetand ^^ furth thar heyd, 
Gan chyp,2° and kyth ^i thar Vermel lippis 

red, 
Crysp scarlet levis sum scheddand, baith 

attanis 
Kest fragrant smell amyd from goldin 

granis ; 
Hevinly lylleis, with lokerand22 toppis 

quhyte, 
Oppynnit and schew thar creistis redy- 

myte,^^ 
The balmy vapour from thar sylkyn crop- 
pis 129 
Distylland hailsum sugurat hunny droppis. 
And sylver schakaris^^ gan fra levis hyng, 
Wyth crystal sprayngis^^ on the verdour 

The plane pulderyt ^6 with semely settis ^"^ 

sound, 
Bedyit ^^ full of dewy peirlis round, 

1 blue. 2 brown. ' gray. * red. ^ (Jun. 
« degree. ^ wan wavy sea. 8 divided. 9 speckled. 
10 spread abroad. n opened. 12 in rich rank grass 
burgeons the banewort wild. i3 the clover, bird's foot. 
14 Damask rose. is columbine, white. i^ Many. 

1^ Pretty gilly-flowers. is vermilion. i* rosebuds 
peeping. 20 burst. 21 show. 22 curling. 23 ornate. 
24 dew-drops. 25 sprays. 26 powdered. 27 shoots. 
23 Moistened. 



50 that ilk burgioun, syon,^^ herb, and flour, 
Wolx all en balmy t of the fresch liqiiour. 
And bathit halt ^° did in dulce humouris 

fleit,3i 
Quharof the beis wrocht thar hunny sweit, 
By miclity Phebus operatiouuis 
In sappy subtell exalatioiuiis. 140 

Forgane ^^ the cummyu of this prince potent, 
Redolent odour up from rutis sprent,^'^ 
Hailsum of smell as ony spicery, 
Tryakle,^'* droggis, or electuary, 
Seroppis, sewane,^^ sugour, and synamome, 
Precyus inunetment, salve, or fragrant 

pome,^^ 
Aromatik gummis, or ony fyne potioun, 
Must,'^''^ mjT, aloes, or confectioun; 
Ane paradice it semyt to draw neyr 
Thyr galyart^^ gardyngis and ilke greyn 

herbere.^^ 150 

Maist amyabill walxis the amerant medis: ^^ 
Swannys swouchis *^ throw out the rysp ^ 

and redis. 
Our al thir lowys"*^ and the fludis gray 
Seyrsand. by kynd"^^ a place quhar thai suld 

lay: 
Phebus red fowle hys corall creist can 

steyr,^^ 
Oft streking^s furth hys hekkyll,^'^ era wand 

cl eir, 
Amyd the wortis^^ and the rutys gent 
Pykland ^^ his meyt in alleis quhar he went, 
Hys wifis, Toppa and Pertelok, hym by, 
As byrd al tyme that hantis^*^ bygamy: 160 
The payntit poune,^i pasand with plomys 

Kest up his taill, a proud plesand quheil 
pyjji 53 

Yschrowdry t in hys fedramme ^^ brycht and 

schene, 
Schapand^ the prent of Argus hundreth 

ene: 
Amang the brounis ^^ of the olyve twestis ^"^ 
Seyr ^^ small fowlis wirkand crafty nestis, 
Endlang the hedgeis thyk, and on rank 

akis,^^ 
Ilk byrd rejosyng with thar myrthfull 

makis.^*^ 

29 scion. 30 warm, si float. 32 Against. '3 sprang. 
34 Medicinal syrup. 35 savin, a drug made from a 

variety of juniper. 36 scent-ball. 37 Musk. 3s gay. 
39 garden or arbour. 40 emerald meads. 4i rustle. 
42 bulrushes. 43 lakes. 44 Seeking by nature. 

45 raise. 46 stretching. 47 long shining feathers on a 
cock's neck. 48 herbs. 49 Pecking. 5o practises, 

51 peacock. 52 neat. 53 wheel-rim. 54 Covered 
with his plumage. 55 Showing, 66 branches, 57 twigs. 
68 Many. 59 oaks. s" mates. 



MORNING IN MAY 



405 



In corneris aud cleir fenystaris^ of glas 
Full byssely Aiague wevand was, 170 

To knit hyr nettis and hir wobbys sle,^ 
Tharwith to caucht the myghe and littill 

fle:3 
So dusty puldyr upstowris ^ in every streyt, 
Quhill corby ^ gaspyt for the fervent heyt. 
Under the bewys beyn ^ in lusty valis, 
Within fermans '' and parkis cloys of palys, 
The bustuus bukkis rakis ^ furth on raw; 
Heyrdis of hertis throw the thyk wod 

schaw, 
Baith the brokettis,^ and with brayd burn- 

yst tyndis; 1*^ 
The sprutlyt^i calvys sowkand the reid 

hyndis, 180 

The yong fownis foUowand the dun dayis,!^ 
Kyddis skippaud throw ronnis ^^ ef tir rayis.^^ 
In lyssouris ^^ and on leys ^^ littill lammis 
Full tait and trig i'^ socht bletand to thar 

dammis. 
Tydy ky lowys,i^ veilys^^ by tharae rynnis; 
All snog and slekyt worth 20 thir bestis 

skynnis. 
On salt stremis wolx^i Doryda and Thetis, 
By rynnand strandis Nymphis and Naedes, 
Syk22 as we clepe wenchis and damy- 

sellis, 189 

In gresy gravis ^3 wandrand by spring wellis, 
Of blomyt branchis and flowris quhite and 

rede 
Plettand thar lusty chaiplettis for thar hede ; 
Sum sing sangis, dansis ledys,^^ and roun- 

dis,25 
Wyth vocis schill,^^ quhill all the daill re- 

soundis; 
Quharso thai walk into thar caraling, 
For amorus lays doith all the rochis ryng. 
Ane sang, ' The schip salis our the salt 

fame, 
Will bring thir merchandis and my lemman 

hame;' 
Sum other singis, 'I wil be blyth and 

lycht, 
Myne hart is lent apon sa gudly wycht.' 200 
And thochtfuU luffaris rowmys to and fro, 
To leis 2" thar pane, and plene ^s thar joly 

wo, 

1 windows. 2 subtle webs. ' midge and little fly. 
* arises. ^ Till the crow. 6 beauteous boughs. 

1 enclosures. s bold bucks range. » two-year-old 
red-deer. 10 prongs. n speckled. 12 does. 

13 thickets, i"* roes, is pastures. 16 naeadows, leas. 
17 sportive and active. is Fat kine low. w calves. 
*" are. 21 waxed, appeared. 22 Such. 23 groves. 
24 lead. 25 round dances, carols. 26 clear. 27 lose. 
88 complain. 



Eftyr thar gys,^^ now siugand, now in sorow, 
With hartis pensyve, the lang symmeris 

morow. 
Sum ballettis lyst endyte of his lady, 
Sum levis in hoip, and sum al utterly 
Disparyt is, and sa quyte owt of grace, 
His purgatory he fyndis in every place. 
To pleis his luife sum thocht to flat and 

fene,^*^ 209 

Sum to hant^i bawdry and onlesum mene; ^^ 
Sum rownys ^^ to hys fallow, thame betwene, 
Hy s mery stouth^"^ and pastaus^° lait y istrene. 
Smyland sayis ane, ' I couth in previte 
Schaw the a bowrd.' ^^ ' Ha, quhat be 

that ? ' quod he. 
'Quhat thing? — That moste be secret,' 

sayd the tother. 
' Gude Lord ! mysbeleif ye your verray 

brother ? ' 

* Xa, nevyr a deill, bot harkis quhat I wald; 
Thou mon be prevy.' *Lo, my hand up- 

hald!' 

* Than sal thou walk at evin.' Quod he, 

' Quhiddyr ? ' 

* In sik a place heyr west, we bayth to- 

giddyr, 220 

Quhar scho so freschly sang this hyndir ^' 

nycht; 
Do chois the ane and I sal quynch the 

lycht.' 
' I sal be thar I hope,' quod he, and lewch; ^^ 

* Ya, now I knaw the mater weill enewch.' 
Thus oft dywulgat^ is this schamefull play, 
Na thyng according to our hailsum May, 
Bot rathyr contagius and infective. 

And repugnant that sessoun nutrytive, 
Quhen new curage kytlis ^"^ all gentill hartis, 
Seaud throu kynd ilk thyng springis and 

revertis. 230 

Dame Naturis menstralis, on that other 

part, 
Thayr blyssf ull bay ^^ entonyng every art, 
To beyt thar amouris of thar nychtis 

baill,42 
The merll, the mavys, and the nychtingale 
With mery notis myrthfully furth brest, 
Enforsing thame quha mycht do clynk it ^^ 

best. 
The cowschet crowdis and pirkis on the rys,^ 
The styrlyng changis divers stevynnys nys;^^ 

29 guise, fashion, so flatter and feign. 3i practise. 
32 unlawful means. 33 whispers. 34 stolen pleasures. 
35 pastime. 36 jest. 37 last. 3s laughed. 39 pub- 
lished. 40 tickles. 41 chorus. 42 To rid their loves of 
the night's tedium. 43 make it ring. 44 The ring-dove 
(cushat) coos and perches on the twig. *5 delicate notes. 



4o6 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 



1 



The sparrow chyrmis ^ in the wallis clyft; 
Goldspyuk and lyntquhyte fordynnand the 

lyft;2 ^ 240 

The gukgo galis,^ and so quytteris ^ the 

quaill, 
Quhill ryveris rerdyt,^ schawls, and every 

vaill, 
And tender twystis trymlyt on the treis, 
for byrdis sang and bemyng ^ of the beis. 
In wrablis ' dulce of hevynly armonyis 
The larkis, lowd releschand^ in the skyis, 
Lovys thar lege ^ with tonys curyus, 
Baith to Dame Natur and the f resch Venus 
Rendryng hie lawdis in thar observance, 
Quhais suguryt throtis mayd glayd hartis 

dans, 250 

And al small fowlys singis on the spray: 
* Welcum, the lord of lycht and lamp of day, 
Welcum, fostypi'^ of tendir herbys grene, 
Welcum, quyknar of florist flowris schene, 
Welcum, support of euery rute and vane ! ^^ 
Welcum, confort of alkynd frnyt and grane ! 
Welcum, the byrdis beyld ^ apon the 

breyr ! 
Welcum, maister and rewlar of the yeyr ! 
Welcum, weilfar of husbandis at the 

plewis ! 
Welcum, reparar of woddis, treis, and 

bewis; 260 

Welcum, depayntar of the blomyt medis ! 
Welcum, the ly f e of euery thing that spredis ! 
Welcum, stourour 1^ of alkynd bestiall ! 
Welcum be thi brycht bemys, glading all ! 
Welcum celestiall myrrour and aspy, 
Attechyng ^^ all that hantis sluggardy ! ' 
And with this word, in chalmer quhair I lay, 
The nynt morow of fresche temperat May, 
On fut I sprent 1° into my bayr sark,i^ 269 
WiKull for till compleyt my langsum wark 
Twichand^''' the lattyr buke of Dan Virgill, 
Quhilk me had tareyt al to lang a quhile. 
And to behald the cummyng of this kyng,i^ 
That was sa welcum tyll all warldly thyng. 
With sic tryumphe and pompos enrage glayd 
Than of his souerane chymmis,!^ ^s is sayd, 
Newly arissyn in hys estayt ryall. 
That, by hys hew, but orleger^o or dyall, 
I knew it was past four houris of day, 
And thocht I wald na langar ly in May 280 

1 chirps. 2 making the air resound. ' cuckoo 
calls. 4 twitters. 5 resounded. 6 din. 1 warbles. 
8 releasing (their voices). 9 Praise their liege lord. 

10 fosterer. n vein, pore. 12 shelter. " stirrer, 
" Reproving. is sprang. is shirt. " Touching. 
18 the sun. i9 mansions. 20 without one to call 

the hours. 



Les Phebus suld me losauger attaynt:^! 
For Progne had, or than, sung hyr com- 

playnt, 
And eik hir dreidful systir Philomene 
Hir lais endit, and in woddis grene 
Hyd hir selvin, eschamyt of hyr chance; 
And Esacus 22 completis his pennance 
In riveris, fludis, and on every laik; 
And Peristera^^ byddis luffaris awaik; 
' Do serve ray lady Venus heyr with me ! 
Lern thus to mak your observance,' quod 

she, 290 

* Into myne hartis ladeis sweit presens 
Behaldis how I beinge,'-^"* and do reverens.' 
Hir nek scho wrinklis, trasing mony fold, 
With plomis glitterand, asur apon gold, 
Rendring a cullour betwix grene and blew 
In purpour glans of hevinly variant hew; 
I meyn our awin native bird, gentill dow,^^ 
Syngand in hyr kynd 'I come bidder to 

wow ; ' 
So pryklyng hyr grene enrage for to crowd 26 
In amorus voce and wowar soundis lowd, 
That, for the dynning of hir wanton cry, 301 
I irkyt of my bed and mycht nocht ly, 
Bot gan me blys,2'^ syne in my wedis dres, 
And, for it was ayr morow, or tyme of mes,^^ 
I hy nt a scriptour ^ and my pen f urth tuike. 
Syne thus begouth of Virgill the twelt 

buike. 



KING HART 30 

(11. 1-80) 

King Hart in to his cumlie castell Strang, 
Closit about with craft and meikill ure,^^ 
So semlie wes he set his folk amang. 
That he no dout had of misaventure; 
So proudlie wes he polist, plane, and pure, 
With youthheid and his lustie levis grene; 
So fair, so fresche, so liklie to endure. 
And als so blyth as bird in symmer schene. 

For wes he never yit with schouris schot, 
Nor yit ourrun with rouk^^ qj. onyrayne; 10 
In all his lusty lecam ^^ nocht ane spot; 
Na never had experience into payne, 

21 call me sluggard. 

22 Af sacus, son of Priam, changed into a bird, the 
diver, after having caused the death of his wife. 

23 dove. 24 bow. 25 dove. 26 coo. 27 cross. 

28 early mom, ere time of mass. 

29 seized a writing-case. 

30 The text is based on the Maitland MS. as printed 
by Gregory Smith in Specimens of 3Iiddle Scots. 

31 work. 32 mist. 33 body. 



KING HART 



407 



That gold nor gude micht gar thame fro 

him go, 
No greif nor grame ^^ suld grayth ^"^ thame 

so agast. 

Fyve servitouris this king he had without, 
That teichit war ay tressoun to espy; 50 
Thai watchit ay the wallis round about 
For innemeis that of hapning ay come by: 
Ane for the day, quhilk jugeit certanly, 
With cure to ken the colour of all hew; 
Ane for the nicht, that harknit bissely 
Out of quhat airt 21 that ever the wyndis 
blew. 

Syne 22 wes thair ane to taist all nutriment 
That to this king wes servit at the deiss; 
Ane uther wes all fovellis ^3 for to sent,^^ 
Of licour or of ony lustie meiss; 60 

The fyft thair wes quhilk culd all [ken]^^ 

but leiss,26 
The heit, the cauld, the hard, and eik the 

soft — 
Ane ganand ^7 servand bayth for weir and 

pece ; 
Yit hes thir folk thair king betrasit ^^ oft. 

Honour perse wit to the kingis yet; ^ 
Thir folk said all thai wald nocht lat him 

in, 
Becaus thai said thair lord to feist wes 

set. 
With all his lustie servandis more and 

myn; ^ 
Bot he ane port had enterit with ane 

gyn,3i 
And up he can in haist to the grit toure, 70 
And said he suld it parall ^^ all with fyn 
And f resche delyt, with mony florist floure. 

So Strang this king him thocht his castell 

stude, 
With mony towre and turat crownit hie: 
About the wall thair ran ane water woid,^^ 
Blak, stiukand, sowr, and salt as is the 

sey, 
That on the wallis wiskit,^ gre be gre,^ 
Boldning ^ to ryis the castell to confound; 
Bot thai within maid sa grit melody, 
That for thair reird ^^ thay micht nocht heir 

the sound. 80 

1' anger, sorrow. 20 make. 21 direction. 22 Then. 
23 provisions. 24 smell. 25 know. 26 without lies. 
27 profitable. 28 betraj'ed. 29 gate. 30 greater and 
less. 31 trick. 32 decorate. 33 wild. 34 splashed. 



Bot alway into lyking,i nocht to layne; ^ 
Onlie to love and verrie gentilnes 
He wes inclynit cleinlie to remane, 
And wonn^ under the wyng of wantownnes. 

Yit was this wourthy wicht King under 

warde, 
For wes he nocht at fredome utterlie. 
Nature had lymmit ^ folk for thair re- 

warde 
This godlie king to governe and to gy ; ^ 20 
For so thai kest® thair tyme to occupy 
In welthis for to wyne; for thai him teichit 
All lustis for to lane^ and underly; ^ 
So prevelie thai preis him and him prei- 

cheid. 

First Strenth, (....) Lust, and Wantown- 
nes, 
Grein Lust, Disport, Jelousy, and Invy; 
Freschnes, Newgot,^ Waistgude,^^ and Wil- 

fulnes, 
Delyvernes, Fulehardenes thairby; 
Gentrice, Fredome,ii Price, Previe Espy, 
Wantwyt, Vanegloir, Prodi galitie, 30 

Unrest, Nichtwalk, and felloun Glutony, 
Uuricht, Dyme Sicht, with Slicht and Sub- 
tilitie. 

Thir war the inwarde ythand ^^ servitouris, 
Quhilk gouernouris war to this nobil king. 
And kepit him inclynit to thair curis; 
Se wes thair nocht in erde that ever micht 

bring 
Ane of thir folk away fra his duelling. 
Thus to thair terme thay serve for thair 

rewarde,^^ 
Dansing, disport, singing, revelling, 
With bissines all blyth to pleis the lairde. 40 

Thir folk, with all the femell " thai micht 

Quhilk nummerit ane milyon and weill mo. 
That wer upbred as servitouris of lang,i^ 
And with this king wald wonn^^ in weill and 

wo, 
For favour nor for f eid '^'' wald found ^^ him 

fro 
Unto the tyme thair daitbe run and past: 

1 pleasure. 2 not to lie, i.e., to tell the truth. 

3 dwell. 4 appointed. ^ guide. 6 planned. 

" hide. So G. Smith from Maitland MS. Pinkerton 
reads love =r love; Small to?'e, and explains as "subject 
to," a doubtful gloss. « experience. ^ New Fashion. 
10 Prodigality. n Generosity. 12 diligent. " in. 
terests. i^ family. 16 for a long time. 16 dwell, 
"hostility. is go. 



35 step 



4o8 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 



HONOUR 1 

HIE honour, sweit hevinlie flour de- 

gest,2 
Gem verteous, maist precious, gudliest. 
For hie reuoun thou art guerdoun con- 
diug,3 
Of worschip kend^ the glorious end and 

rest, 
But ^ quhome in richt na worthie wicht may 
lest. 
Thy greit puissance may maist avauce 

all thing, 
And poverall to mekill availl^ sone 
bring. 

1 the require sen thow but peir ''' art best. 
That efter this in thy hie blis we ring.^ 

Of grace thy face in everie place sa schy- 

nis, lo 

That sweit all spreit baith heid and feit 

inclynis,^ 

Thy gloir afoir for till imploir remeid.^o 

1 This " ballade in commendation of honour and ver- 
teu " ends " The Palace of Honour," and with its inter- 
nal rhymes is a good example of the virtuosity in metre 
of the Middle Scots poets. 

2 sober. ^ condign. * acknowledged. * With- 
out. 8 poor folk to great consequence. "> without 
equal. s reign. 9 That sweet (sight) inclines all 
spirit (i. e., everybody) with both head and feet. 

10 advancement. 



He docht ^^ richt nocht, quhilk out of thocht 

the tynis; ^^ 
Thy name but blame, and royal fame di- 
vine is; 
Thow port, at schort,^^ of our comfort 

and reid ^^ 
Till bring all thing till glaiding efter deid, 
All wicht but sicht of thy greit micht ay 
crynis,^^ 
O schene,^^ I mene ^"^ nane may sustene 
thy feid.18 

Haill rois maist chois till clois ^^ thy fois 

greit micht, 

Haill, stone quhilk schone upon the throne 

of licht, 2o 

Vertew, quhais trew sweit dew ouir- 

threw al vice, 

Was ay ilk day gar^o say the way of licht; 

Amend, offend,^! and send our end ay richt. 

Thou stant, ordant as sanct, of grant 

maist wise. 
Till be supplie,22 and the hie gre^^ of price. 
Delite the tite me quite of site to dicht,^^ 
For I apply schortlie to thy devise.^ 

" avails. 12 loses. i' in short. 1* counsel. 
15 shrivels. is shining one. 1^ mean. is enmity. 
19 end. 20 causing (sense dubious). 21 Cause us 
pleasure, or pain. 22 to be succour. 23 reward. 

24 Be pleased quickly to make me quit of shame. 

25 In brief I put myself in thy control. 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



THE DREAM (11. 918-1036) 

COMPLAYNT OF THE COMMOUNWEILL 
OF SCOTLAND ^ 

And thus as we wer talking, to and fro, 
We saw a bousteous berne ^ cum ouir the 
bent,^ 
Bot ^ hors, on fute, als fast as he mycht go, 
Quhose rayment wes all raggit, revin, 

and rent, 
With visage leyne, as he had fastit Lent: 
And ford wart fast his wayis he did advance, 
With ane rycht melancolious countynance. 

With scrip on hip, and pyikstaff in his 
hand, 
As he had purposit to passe f ra hame. 
Quod I, 'Gude-man, I wald faine under- 
stand, ro 
Geve that ye plesit, to wyt quhat were 

your name ? ' 
Quod he, * My Sonne, of that I think 
gret schame, 
Bot, sen thow wald of my name have ane 

feill,^ 
Forsuith, thay call me John the Commoun- 
weilL' 

* Schir Commounweill, quho hes yow so 
disgysit ? ' 
Quod I : ' or quhat makis yow so miser- 
byll? 
I have marvell to se yow so supprysit,^ 
The quhilk that I have sene so honor- 

abyll. 
To all the warld ye have bene profit- 
abyll, 
And Weill honourit in everilk natioun : 20 
How happinnis now your tribulatioun ? ' 

' AUace ! ' quod he, * thow seis how it dois 
stand 
With me, and quhow I am disherisit "^ 

1 This is near the end of the poem, and follows a de- 
scription of Scotland by the dreamer's guide, Dame 
Remembrance. 2 rough fellow. ^ field. * Without. 
5 knowledge. « oppressed. "> disinherited. 



Of all my grace, and mon pass of ^ Scot- 
land, 
And go, afore quhare I was cherisit. 
Remane I heir, I am bot perysit; 
For thare is few to me that takis tent,^ 
That garris ^^ me go so raggit, revin, and 
rent: 

' My tender friendis are all put to the 

flycht; 

For policye is fled agane in France. ^^ 30 

My syster, Justice, almaist haith tynt ^^ hir 

sycht, 

That scho can nocht hald evinly the bal- 

lance. 
Plane Wrang is plane capitane of ordi- 
nance, 
The quihilk debarris laute ^^ and reasoun; 
And small remeid is found for open trea- 
soun. 

'In-to the South, allace ! I was neir slane; 

Oner all the land I culd fynd no releif. 
Almoist betuix the Mers and Lowma- 
bane " 

I culde nocht knaw ane leill man be ane 

theif. 
To schaw thair reif,i^ thift, murthour, 

and mischeif, 40 

And vicious workis, it wald infect the 

air. 
And als langsimi to me for tyll declair. 

* In-to the Hieland I could fynd no re- 
meid, 
Bot suddantlie I wes put to exile: 
Thai sweir swyngeoris ^^ thay tuke of me 
non heid. 
Nor aniangs thame lat me remane ane 

quhyle. 
Als, in the Oute Ylis, and in Argyle, 
Unthrift, sweirnes, falset, povertie, and 

stryfe 
Pat Policye in dainger of hir lyfe. 

8 must pass out of. > heed. 10 makes. 

II An allusion to the defeat of the French party. 

12 lost. 13 loyalty. i^ i.e., in the whole Lowland. 
IS robbery. " Those lazy rogues. 



4IO 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



* In the Lawland I come to seik refuge, 50 

And purposit thare to mak my resi- 
dence; 
Bot singulare profeit ^ gart me soune dis- 
luge, 
And did me gret injuries and offence, 
And said to me, " Swyith, harlote,^ hy 
thee hence, 
And in this countre see thow tak no curis,^ 
So lang as my auctoritie iuduris." 

* And now I may mak no langer debait; 

Nor I wate nocht quhome to I suld me 
mene ; ^ 
For I have socht throw all the Spirituall 
stait, 
Quhilkis tuke na compt for to heir me 
complene. 60 

Thair officiaris, thay held me at disdene; 
For Symonie, he rewlis up all that rovvte; 
And Covatyce, that carle, gart^ bar me oute. 

* Pryde haith chaist far frome thame Hu- 

militie; 
Devotioun is fled unto the Freris ; 
Sensuale plesour hes baneist Chaistitie; 
Lordis of religioun, thay go lyke secu- 

leris. 
Taking more compt in tellyng thair de- 
neris ^ 
Nor thai do of thair constitutioun. 
Thus are thay blyndit be ambitioun. 70 

* Our gentyll men are all degenerat; 

Liberalitie and lawte boith ar lost, 
And Coward^'ce with lordis is laureat, 
And knychtlie Curage turnit in brag and 

boast. 
The civele weir misgydis everilk oist;''' 
Thare is nocht ellis bot ilk man for hym- 

self; 
That garris me go, thus baneist lyke aue elf. 

* Tharefor, adew : I may no langer tarye.' 

'Fair Weill,' quod I, 'and with sanct 
Jhone to borrow ! ' ^ 
Bot, wyt ye weill, my hart was wounder 
sarye 80 

Qnhen Comounweill so sopit^ was in sor- 
row. 

* Yit efter the nycht cum is the glaid mor- 
row; 

1 individual interest. * In haste, fellow. 3 offices. 
4 complain, moan. 5 caused to. ^ money. ^ host. 
8 for your surety. 8 steeped. 



Quharefor, I pray yow, schaw me in cer- 

tane 
Quhen that ye purpose for to cum agane.' 

* That questioun, it sail be sone decydit,' 

Quod he, * thare sail na Scot have con- 
fortyng 
Of me tyll that I see the countre gydit 
Be wysedome of ane gude auld prudent 

Kyng, 
Quhilk sail delyte him maist, abone^^ all 
thyng. 
To put Justice tyll executioun, 90 

And on Strang traitouris mak punitioun. 

* Als yit to thee I say ane uther thyng : 

I see rycht weill that proverbe is full 
trew, 
" Wo to the realme that hes ouer young ane 
King ! " ' 
With that he turnit his bak, and said 

adew. 
Ouer firth and felU^ rycht fast fra me he 
flew, 
Quhose departyng to me was displesand. 
VVith that, Remembrance tuk me be the 
hand, 

And sone, me-thocht, scho broeht me to the 

roche 99 

And to the cove ^^ quhare I began to sleip. 

With that, one schip did spedalye approche, 

Full plesandlie saling apone the deip. 

And syne ^^ did slake hir salis and gan to 

creip 

Towart the land, anent ^^ quhare that I lay. 

Bot, wyt ye weill, I gat ane fellown frayr^^ 

All hir cannounis sche leit craik of at onis : 

Down schuke the stremaris frome the top- 

castell ; 

Thay sparit nocht the poulder nor the 

stonis ; ^^ 

Thay schot thair boltis, and doun thair 

ankeris fell; 
The marenaris, thay did so youte ^'^ and 
yell, no 

That haistalie I stert out of my dreme, 
Half in ane f ray,i^ and spedalie past hame. 

And lychtlie dynit, with lyste^^ and appetyte, 
Syne efter past in-tyll ane oratore, 

10 above. 11 wood and hill. 12 cavern. i3 presently. 
14 near. is a wicked fright. i« stone bullets. 

17 shout. 18 fright. i9 pleasure. 



TESTAMENT OF THE KING'S PAPINGO 



411 



And tuke my pen, and thare began to wryte 
All the visioun that I have schawin 

afore. 
Schir, of my dreme as now thou gettis 
no more, 
Bot I beseik God for to send thee grace 
To rewle thy realme in unitie and peace. 



THE TESTAMENT AND COM- 
PLAINT OF OUR SOVEREIGN 
LORD'S PAPINGO 

(11. 626-1190) 

Adew, Edinburgh! thou heych tryumph- 
aut toun, 
Within quhose boundis rycht blythfull 
have I bene. 
Of trew merchandis the rute of this re- 
gioun, 
Most reddy to resave Court, King, and 

Quene ! 
Thy polecye and justice may be sene. 
War devotioun, wysedome, and honestie. 
And credence tynt,^ thay mycht be found 
in thee. 

Adew, fair Snawdoun! ^ with thy touris hie, 

Thy Chapell Royall, park, and tabyll 

rounde ! ^ 

May, June, and July walde I dwell in 

the^, 10 

War I one man, to heir the birdis sounde, 

Quhilk doith agane thy royall roche re- 

dounde. 

Adew, Lythquo ! ^ quhose Palyce of ples- 

ance 
Mycht be one patrone ^ in Portingall or 
France ! 

Fair-weill, Falkland ! the fortrace of Fyfe, 
Thy polyte park, under the Lowmound 
Law ! 
Sum-tyme in thee I led ane lustye lyfe. 
The fallow deir, to see thame raik on 

raw.^ 
Court men to cum to thee, thay stand 
gret awe, 
Sayand thy burgh bene of all burrowis 
baill,"^ 20 

Because in thee thay never gat gude aill. 

1 lost. 2 An old name of Stirling. 

3 An ancient earthwork. * Linlithgow. 
B pattern. « range in row. ^ the worst. 



THE COMMONYNG BETUIX THE PAPYNGO 
AND HIR HOLYE EXECUTOURIS ^ 

The Pye persavit the Papyngo in paine. 
He lyehtit doun, and fenyeit him to 
greit : ^ 
'Sister,' said he, *alace! quho hes yow 
slane ? 
I pray yow, mak provisione for your 

spreit, 
Dispone your geir,io and yow confes com- 
pleit. 

I have power, be your contritioun. 

Of all your mys ^^ to geve yow full remis- 
sioun. 

• I am,' said he, * one Channouu regulare. 

And of my brether Pryour principall: 30 
My quhyte rocket my clene lyfe doith de- 
clare; 
The blak bene ^ of the deith memo- 

riall: 
Quharefor I thynk your gudis naturall 
Sulde be submyttit hole into my cure; 
Ye know I am ane holye creature.' 

The Ravin come rolpand,!^ quhen he hard 
the rair;!^ 
So did the Gled,i^ with mony pieteous 
pew;i^ 
And fenyeitlye thay contrafait gret cair. 
' Sister,' said thay, ' your raklesnes we 

rew; 
Now best it is our juste counsall ensew. 
Sen we pretend to heych promotioun, 41 
Religious men, of gret devotioun.' 

*I am ane blak Monk,' said the rutlande^'^ 
Ravin; 
So said the Gled, ' I am ane holy f reir. 
And hes power to bryng yow quyke to 
hevin. 
It is Weill knawin my conscience bene 

full cleir; 

The blak Bybill ^^ pronunce I sail per- 

queir,!^ 

So tyll our brether ye will geve sum gude ; 

God wat geve ^° we hes neid of lyves 

fude!' 49 

The Papyngo said, * Father, be the Rude, 
Howbeit your rayment be religious lyke, 

8 executors. » weep. 10 Dispose of your goods. 

II sins. 12 are. i3 croaking. i^ rumpus, is Kite. 
16 thin cry. i7 croaking, is The prayer for the dead. 
19 by heart, par cceur. 20 if. 



412 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



Your conscience, I suspect, be nocht gude. 
I did persave quiieu prevelye ye did 

pyke 1 
Ane chekin from ane hen under ane 
dyke.' 

* I grant,' said he. * That hen was my gude 

freind, 
And I that chekin tuke hot for my teind.^ 

* Ye knaw the faith be us mon be susteind: 

So be the Pope it is preordinate 
That spirituall men suld leve upon thair 
teind: 
Bot Weill wat I ye bene predestinate 60 
In your extremis to be so fortunate, 
To have sic holy consultatiouu; 
Quharefore we mak yow exhortatioun : 

*Sen dame Nature hes grantit yow sic 
grace, 
Layser to mak confessioun generall, 
Schaw furth your syn in haist, quhil ye half 
space; 
Syne of your geir mak one memoriall. 
We thre sal mak your feistis funerall, 
And with gret blys bury we sail your bonis. 
Syne trentalls twenty trattylF all at onis. 70 

*The roukis sail rair, that men sail on 
thame rew. 
And crye Commemoratio Animarum. 
We sail gar cheknis cheip, and geaslyngis 
pew,^ 
Suppose the geis and hennis suld crye 

alarum: 
And we sail serve secundum usum Sa- 
runij 
And mak you saif : we fynd Sanct Blase to 

borgh,^ 
Cryand for yow the cairfull corrynogh.^ 

* And we sail syng about your sepulture 

Sanct Mongols ^ matynis and the mekle 

creid, 

And syne devotely saye, I yow assure, 80 

The auld Placebo bakwart, and the beid; ^ 

And we sail weir for yow the murnyng 

weid 

And, thocht your spreit with Pluto war 

profest, 
Devotelie sail your diregie ® be addrest.' 

1 steal. 2 tithe. 

8 rattle off twenty services of thirty masses each. 

4 make chickens chirp and goslings squeak. 

5 as surety. « coronach, lament. '' Mungo's (i.e., 
Kentigern's). » prayer. » funeral service. 



' Father,' said scho, ' your facunde '^^ wordis 
fair, 
Full sore I dreid be contrar to your 
dedis. 
The wyffis of the village cryis with cair 
Quhen thai persave your mowe^^ ouir- 

thort thar medis; 
Your fals consait boith duke and draik ^ 
sore dreidis, 
I marvell, suithlie,^^ ye be nocht eschamit 
For your defaltis, beyug so defamit. 91 

* It dois abhor my pure perturbit spreit 

Tyll mak to yow ony confessioun. 
I heir men saye ye bene one ypocrite, 
Exemptit f rome the Senye " and the Ses- 

sioun. 
To put my geir in your possessioun. 
That wyll I nocht, so help me Dame Na- 
ture! 
Nor of my corps I wyll yow geve no cure. 

* Bot, had I heir the nobyll Nychtingall, 

The gentyll Ja, the Merle, and Turtur 
trew, 100 

My obsequeis and feistis funerall 

Ordour thay wald, with notis of the new. 
The plesand Pown,^^ most angellyke of 
hew, 
Wald God I wer this daye with hym conf est, 
And my devyse ^^ dewlie be hym addrest ! 

' The myrthf nil Maveis, with the gay Golds- 
pink, 
The lustye Larke, wald God thay war 
preseut ! 
My iuf ortune, f orsuith, thay wald f orthink,^"^ 
And comforte me that bene so impotent. 
The swyft Swallow, in prattick ^^ moste 
prudent, no 

I wate scho wald my bledyng stem belyve ^^ 
With hir moste verteous stone restring- 
ityve.'2o 

* Compt 21 me the cace, under confessioun,' 

The Gied said proudlye to the Papingo, 
' And we sail sweir, be our prof essioun, 

Counsall to keip, and schaw it to no mo. 

We thee beseik, or thou depart us fro, 
Declare to us sum causis reasonabyll 
Quhy we bene haldin so abhominabyll. 

10 eloquent. n "gly mug. 12 duck and drake. 

1' forsooth. 1* Consistory court. is peacock. 

16 testament. i^ regret. is practice, e.g., house 
building. i9 forthwith. 20 styptic. 21 give 

account of. 



TESTAMENT OF THE KING'S PAPINGO 



413 



* Be thy travell thou hes experience, 120 

First, beand bred in-to the Orient, 
Syne be thy gude servyce and delygence 
To prencis maid heir in the Occident. 
Thow knawis the vulgare pepyllis juge- 
ment 
Quhare thou transeurriti the hote Meridion- 

all, 
Syne nyxt the Poill the plaige ^ Septentri- 
onal 1. 

* So, be thyne heych ingyne ^ superlatyve. 

Of all countreis thou knawis the quali- 

teis: 

Quharefore, I thee conjure, be God of lyve, 

The veritie declare, withouttin leis,^ 130 

Quhat thou hes hard, be landis or be seis. 

Of us kirkmen, boith gude and evyll re- 

porte ; 
And quhow thay juge, schaw us, we thee 
exhorte.' 

* Father,' said scho, ' I, catyve creature, 

Dar nocht presume with sic mater to 
mell.^ 
Of your caces, ye knaw, I have no cure; 
Demand thame quhilk in prudence doith 

precell.6 
I maye nocht pew,"^ my panes bene so 
fell: 
And als, perchance, ye wyll nocht stand 

content 
To knaw the vulgare pepyllis jugement. 140 

* Yit, wyll the deith alyte ^ withdrawe his 

darte, 
All that lyis in my memoryall 
I sail declare with trew imfenyeit hart. 
And first I saye to you in generall 
The commoun peple sayith ye bene all 
Degenerit frome your holy pirniityvis,^ 
As testyfeis the proces of your lyvis. 

' Of your peirles prudent predecessouris 

The beginnyng, I grant, wes verray gude: 
Apostolis, martyres, virgines, confess- 
ouris, 150 

The sound of thair excellent sanctitude 
Was hard ouer all the warld, be land and 
flude, 
Plantyng the faith, be predicatioun, 
As Christe had maid to thame narratioun. 

1 passed. 2 region, 3 intelligence. * lies. 
B meddle. 6 excel. ^ speak. 8 a little, 

* primitives, the fathers of the church. 



* To f ortyfie the faith thay tuke no f eir 

Afore prencis, preching full prudentlie; 
Of dolorous deith thay doutit nocht the 
deir,io 
The veritie declaryng ferventlie; 
And martyrdome thay sufferit pacientlie : 
Thay tuke no cure of land, ryches, nor 
rent; 160 

Doctryne and deid war boith equivolent. 

' To schaw at lenth thair workis wer gret 
wunder, 
Thair myracklis thay wer so manifest. 
In name of Christe thay hailit mony houn- 
der,ii 
Rasyng the dede, and purgeing the pos- 

sest, 
With perverst spreitis quhilkis had bene 
opprest. 
The crukit ran, the blynd men gat thair 

ene, 
The deiff men hard, the lypper^^ war maid 
clene. 

* The prelatis spousit wer with Povertie, 

Those dayis, quhen so thay flurisit in 
fame, 170 

And with hir generit^^ lady Chaistitie 
And dame Devotioun, notabyll of name. 
Humyll thay wer, simpyll, and full of 
schame. 
Thus Chaistitie and dame Devotioun 
Wer principall cause of thair promotioun. 

* Thus thay contynewit in this lyfe devyne 

Aye tyil thare rang,^^ in Romes gret 
cietie, 
Ane potent prince was namit Constantyne, 
Persavit the Kirk had spowsit Povertie. 
With gude intent, and movit of pietie, 180 
Cause of divorce he fande betuix thame 

two. 
And partit thame, withouttin wordis mo. 

' Syne, schortlie, with ane gret solempnitie, 
Withouttin ony dispensatioun. 

The Kirk he spowsit with dame Propirtie, 
Quhilk haistelye, be proclamatioun, 
To Povertie gart ^^ mak narratioun, 

Under the pane of peirsyng of hir eine,!^ 

That with the Kirk scho sulde no more be 



10 injury, n healed many hundreds. 12 lepers. 
13 begat. 1^ reigned. ib he caused. 

18 Upon pain of putting out her eyes. 



414 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



*Sanct Sylvester that tyme rang Pope in 
Koine, 190 

Qnhilk first consentit to the mariage 
Of Propii'tie/ the quhilk began to blome, 
Taking on hir the cure with heych cor- 

rage. 
Devotioun drew hir tyll one heremytage 
Qnhen scho considerit lady Propirtie 
So heych exaltit in-to dignitie. 

* O Sylvester, quhare was thy discretioun ? 

Quhilk Peter did renounce, thow did re- 
save, 
Androw and Jhone did leif thair posses- 
sioun, 
Thair schippis, and nettis, lynes, and all 
the lave ; ^ 200 

Of tempcrall substance no-thing wald 
thay have 
Contrarious to thair contemplatioun, 
Bot soberlye thair sustentatioun. 

* Johne the Baptist went to the wyldernes. 

Lazarus, Martha, and Marie Magdalene 
Left heretage and gnddis, more and les. 
Prudent Sanct Paule thocht Propertie 

prophane ; 
Frome toun to toun he ran, in wynde and 
rane. 
Upon his feit, techeing the word of grace, 
And never was subjectit to ryches.' 210 

The Gled said, * Yit I heir no-thyng bot 
gude. 
Proceidschortlye, and thy mater avance.' 
The Papyngo said, ' Father, be the Rude, 
It wer too lang to schaw the circum- 
stance, 
Quhow Propertie, with hir new alyance, 
Grew gret with chylde, as trew men to me 

talde. 
And bure two dochteris gudelie to behalde. 

* The eldest dochter named was Ryches, 

The secunde syster, Sensualytie; 
Quhilks did incres, within one schorte pro- 
ces, 220 

Preplesande ^ to the Spiritualytie. 
In gret substance and excellent bewtie 
Thir Ladyis two grew so, within few yeiris, 
That in the warlde wer non mycht be thair 
peiris. 

1 Under Silvester (4th century) the Church first ac- 
quired much property. 

2 rest. ' Very pleasing. 



* This royall Ryches and lady Sensuall 

Frome that tyme furth tuke hole the 
governance 
Of the moste part of the Stait Spirituall: 
And thay agane, with hum by 11 obser- 
vance, 
Amorouslie thair wyttis did avance, 
As trew luifaris, thair ladyis for to pleis. 230 
God wate geve ^ than thair hartis war at eis. 

'Sonne thay foryet to study, praye, and 
preche, 
Thay grew so subject to dame Sensuall, 
And thocht bot paine pure pepyll for to 
teche; 
Yit thay decretit, in thair gret Counsall, 
Thay wald no more to mariage be thrall, 
Traistyng surely tyll observe Chaistitie, 
And all begylit, quod ^ Sensualytie. 

* Apperandlye thay did expell thair wyffis 

That thay mycht leif at large, without 
thirlage,^ 240 

At libertie to lede thair lustie lyffis, 

Thynkand men thrall that bene in mari- 
age. 
For new faces provokis new corrage. 
Thus Chaistitie thay turne in-to delyte; 
Wantyng of wyffis bene cause of appetyte. 

'Dame Chaistitie did steill away for 
schame, 
Frome tyme scho did persave thair pro- 
viance.'^ 
Dame Sensuall one letter gart proclame, 
And hir exilit Italy and France. 
In Inglande couthe scho get none ordi- 
nance.^ 250 
Than to the kyng and eourte of Scotlande 
Scho markit hir,^ withouttin more demande. 

' Traistyng in-to that court to get conf orte, 
Scho maid hir hnmyll supply catioun. 

Schortlye thay said scho sulde get na sup- 
porte, 
Bot bostit hir,i° with blasphematioun, 
" To preistis go mak your protestatioun. 

It is," said thay, " mony one houndreth yeir 

Sen Chaistitie had ony entres ^^ heir." 

* Tyrit for travell, scho to the preistis past, 

And to the rewlaris of religioun. 261 

4 knows if. 5 quoth, said. s bondage. 

7 purveyance, conduct. 8 settlement. 

9 She marched, ^o ordered her. " entry^ 



TESTAMENT OF THE KING'S PAPINGO 



415 



Of hir presens schortlye thay war agast, 

Sayand thay thocht it bot abusioua 

Hir to resave: so, with conclusion, 

With one avyce decretit and gave dome, 

Thay walde resset ^ no rebell out of Rome. 

* " Sulde we resave that Romanis hes re- 
fusit, 
And baneist Inglande, Italye, and France, 
For your flattrye, than wer we weill abusit. 
Passe hyne," ^ said thay, " and fast your 
way avance, 270 

Amang the nonnis go seik your ordinance ; 
For we have maid aith of fidelytie 
To dame Ryches and Sensualytie." 

* Than paciently scho maid progressioun 

Towarde the nonnis, with hart syching 
full sore. 
Thay gaif hir presens, with processioun, 
Ressavand hir with honour, laud, and 

glore, 
Purposyng to preserve hir ever more. 
Of that uovelUs ^ come to dame Propertie, 
To Ryches, and to Sensualytie; 280 

*Quhilkis sped thame at the post rycht 
spedalye, 
And sett ane seage proudlye about the 
place. 
The sillye nonnis did yeild thame haistelye, 
And hurayllye of that gylt askit grace, 
Syne gave thair bandis of perpetuall 
peace. 
Ressavand thame, thay kest up wykkets ^ 

wyde: 
Than Chaistytie walde no langer abyde. 

* So for refuge, fast to the freris scho fled; 

Quhilks said thay wald of ladyis tak no 

cure.' 

*Quhare bene scho now?* than said the 

gredy Gled. 290 

• Nocht amang yow,' said scho, ' I yow 

assure. 
I traist scho bene upon the Borrow-mure 
Besouth ^ Edinburgh, and that rycht mony 

menis,^ 
Prof est amang the Systeris of the Schenis.' 

'Thare hes scho found hir mother Pov- 
ertie, 

' receive. * hence. * news. 

* doors. 5 South of. « lament. 

^ Sisters in a Dominican nunnery dedicated to St. 
Catherine of Sienna, on the Burrow-muir of Edinburgh. 



And Devotioun, hir awin syster carnall. 
Thare hes scho foimd Faith, Hope, and 
Charitie, 
Togidder with the Yertues Cardinall. 
Thare hes scho found ane convent yit un- 
thrall 
To darae Sensuall, nor with riches abusit; 
So quietlye those ladyis bene inclusit.' 301 

The Pyote said, *I dreid, be thay assail- 
yeit, 
Thay rander thame, as did the holy non- 
nis.' 

* Doute nocht,' said scho, ' for thay bene so 

artalyeit,^ 
Thay purpose to defend thame with thair 

gunnis. 
Reddy to schute thay have sax gret can- 
nounnis. 
Perseverance, Constancye, and Conscience, 
Austerytie, Laubour, and Abstynance. 

* To resyste subtell Sensualytie 

Strongly thay bene enarmit, feit and 
handis, 310 

Be Abstynence, and keipith Povertie, 
Contrar Ryches and all hir fals servandis. 
Thay have ane boumbard braissit up in 
bandis ^ 
To keip thair porte, in myddis of thair clois, 
Quhilk is callit, Domine cuslodi nos ; 

'Within quhose schote thare dar no ene- 
meis 
Approche thair place, for dreid of dyntis 
doure.i^ 
Boith nycht and daye thay wyrk, lyke be- 
sye beis, 
For thair defence reddye to stande in 

stoure,!^ 

And hes sic watcheis on thair utter toure 

That dame Sensuall with seage dar not 

assailye, 321 

Nor cum within the schote of thair ar- 

tailye.'i2 

The Pyote said, ' Quhareto sulde thay pre- 
sume 
For to resyste sweit Sensualytie, 
Or dame Ryches, quhilkis reularis bene in 
Rome? 
Ar thay more constant, in thair qualytie, 
Nor the prencis of Spiritualytie, 

8 provided with artillery. « a hooped mortar, 

w hard blows. " shock of battle. " artillery. 



4i6 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



Quhilkis plesandlye, withouttin obstakle, 
Haith thaine resavit in their habitakle? ^ 

*Quhow long, traist ye, those ladyis sail 
remaue 330 

So solytar, in sic perfectioun? ' 

The Papingo said, ' Brother, in certane. 
So lang as thay obey correctioun, 
Cheisyng thair heddis be electioun, 

Unthrall to Ryches or to Povertie,^ 

Bot as requyrith thair necessitie. 

* O prudent prelatis, quhare was your 

presciance, 
That tuke on hand tyll observe Chaisti- 
tie, 
But ^ aiisteir lyf e, laubour, and abstenance ? 
Persavit ye nocht the gret prosperitie 340 
Apperandlye to cum of Propertie? 
Ye knaw gret cheir, great eais, and ydelnes 
To Lychorie was mother and maistres.' 

* Thow ravis unrockit,' ^ the Ravin said, * be 

the Rude, 
So to reprove Ryches or Propertie. 
Abraham, and Ysaac war ryche, and ver- 
ray gude; 
Jacobe and Josephe had prosperitie.' 
The Papingo said, ' That is verytie. 
Ryches, I grant, is nocht to be refusit, 
Providyng alwaye it be nocht abusit.' 350 

Than laid the Ravin ane replycatioun, 
Syne said, ' Thy reasone is nocht worth 
ane myte, 
As I sail prove, with protestatioun 

That no man tak my wordis in dispyte. 
I saye, the temporall prencis hes the 
wyte,^ 
That in the Kirk sic pastours dois provyde 
To governe saulis, that not tham-selfis can 
gyde. 

* Lang tyme ef ter the Kirk tuke Propertie, 

The prelatis levit in gret perfectioun, 

Unthrall to Ryches or Sensualytie, 360 

Under the Hqly Spreitis protectioun, 

Orderlye chosin be electioun, 

As Gregore, Jerome, Ambrose, and Augus- 

tyne, 
Benedict, Bernard, Clement, Cleit, and 
Lyne.^ 

1 habitation. * Qy. Propertie (?) 

8 Without. * recklessly. 5 blame. 
8 The first two popes after S. Peter. 



* Sic pacient prelatis enterit be the porte, 

Plesand the peple be predicatioun. 
Now dyke-lowpaiis " dois in the Kirk resort, 
Be symonie, and supplycatioun 
Of prencis be thair presentatioun. 
So sillye saulis, that bene Christis scheip, 
Ar gevin to hungrye gormande ^ wolfis to 
keip. 371 

' No marvell is thocht we religious men 

Degenerit be, and in our lyfe confusit: 
Bot sing, and dryuk, none uther craft we 
ken; 
Our spirituall fatheris hes us so abusit. 
Agane our wyll those treukouris^ bene 
intrusit. 
La wit ^^ men hes now religious men in curis; 
Profest virgenis in keipyng of strong huris.^^ 

'Prencis, prencis, quhar bene your heych 
prudence 
In dispositioun of your beneficeis? 380 
The guerdonyng of your courticience ^^ 
Is sum cause of thir gret enormyteis. 
Thare is one sorte wattand ^^ lyke houn- 
gre fleis,i4 
For spirituall cure, thocht thay be no-thing 

abyll, 
Quhose gredie thristis ^^ bene insaciabyll. 

* Prencis, I pray yow, be no more abusit, 

To verteous men havyng so small re- 
garde. 
Quhy sulde vertew, throuch flattrye, be 
refusit, 
That men for cunnyng i^ can get no re- 

warde? 
Allace! that ever one braggar or ane 
barde, 390 

Ane hure-maister, or commoun hasarture," 
Sulde in the Kirk get ony kynde of cure ! 

'War I one man worthy to weir ane croun. 
Aye quhen thare vakit ^^ ony beneficeis, 

I suld gar call ane congregatioun, 
The principall of all the prelaceis, 
Moste cunnyng clerkis of universiteis, 

Moste famous fatheris of religioun. 

With thair advyse mak dispositioun. 

* I suld dispone all offices pastorallis 400 

Tyll doctouris of devynitie, or jure;i^ 

7 leapers over the wall. » greedy. » tricksters. 
10 Lewd, unlearned. n whores. 12 courtiers. 

13 waiting. 1* fleas, is thirsts. " skill, knowledge 
" gambler. is fell vacant. " law. 



TESTAMENT OF THE KING'S PAPINGO 



417 



And cause dame Yertew pull up all hir 
saillis, 
Quhen cunnyng men had in the Kirk 

moist cure; 
Gar lordis send thair sonnes, I yow as- 
sure, 

To seik science, and famous sculis fre- 
quent; 

Syne thame promove that wer moste sapi- 
ent. 

*Gret plesour wer to heir ane byschope 
preche, 
One deane, or doctour in divinitie, 
One abbote quhilk could weill his convent 
teche, 
One persoun^ flowing in phylosophie. 410 
I tyne^ my tyme to wys^ quhilk wyll 
nocht be. 
War nocht ^ the preaching of the Begging 

Freris, 
Tynt war the faith amang the seculeris.' 

*As for thair precheing,' quod the Pa- 
pingo, 
* I thame excuse, for quhy, thay bene so 
thrall 
To Propertie, and hir ding ^ dochteris two, 
Dame Ryches, and fair lady Sensuall, 
That may nocht use no pastyme spirit- 
uall ; 
And in thair habitis thay tak sic delyte 
Thay have renuncit russat and raploch 
quhyte,^ 420 

'Cleikand"^ to thame skarlote and cram- 
mosie,^ 
With menever,martrik, grice, and ryche 
armyne.® 
Thair lawe hartis exaultlt ar so hie, 

To see thair papale pompe it is ane 

pyne.i*' 
More ryche arraye is now, with frenyeis ^^ 
fyne. 
Upon the bardyngi2 of ane byscheopis 

mule, 
Nor ever had Paule or Peter agane Yule. 

' Syne fair ladyis thair chene may not es- 
chape, 
Dame Sensuall sic seid haith in tham 

sawin, 

1 parson. 2 lose. s wish- * If it had not 

been for. 5 digne, worthy. « homespun white. 

"> Taking. 8 crimson. 9 miniver, marten, grey, 

and rich ermine. " pain, n fringes. « caparison. 



Les skaith ^^ it war, with lycence of the 

Pape, 430 

That like prelate one wyfe had of his 

awin, 
Nor se thair bastardis ouirthort the coun- 

tre blawin ; ^^ 
For now, be thay be weill cumin frome the 

sculis, 
Thay fall to work as thay war comraoun 

bullis.' 

* Pew ! ' ^^ quod the Gled, * thow prechis all 

in vaine: 
Ye seculare floks hes of our cace no 
curis.' 1^ 
'I grant,' said scho; 'yit men wyll speik 
agane, 
Quhow ye haif maid a hundreth thousand' 

huris 
Quhilkis nevir had bene war not your 
lychorous luris. 
And geve I lee,^' bartlye I me repent; 440 
Was never bird, I watt, more penitent.' 

Than scho hir shrave,^^ with devote contyn- 
ance, 
To that f als Gled quhilk feayeit hym one 
freir; 
And quhen scho had fulfyllit hir pennance, 
Full subtellye at hir he gan inqueir: 

* Cheis yow,' said he, ' quhilk of us 

brether heir 
Sail have of all your naturall geir the 

curis. 
Ye knaw none bene more holye creaturis.' 

* I am content,' quod the pure Papingo, 

' That ye frier Gled, and Corby Monk, 
your brother, 450 

Have cure of all my guddis, and no mo. 
Sen at this tyme freindschip I fynd non 
uther.' 

* We salbe to yow trew, as tyll our 

mother,' 

Quod thay, and sweir tyll fulfyll hir intent. 

' Of that,' said scho, ' I tak ane instru- 
ment.' 

The Pyote said, ' Quhat sail mvne office 
bee ? ' 

* Ouirman,' i^ said scho, * unto the tother 

two.' 

" harm, i^ blown all over the country, is Pshaw f 
16 Our condition is no affair of you secular flocks (or, 
more probably, /0/A5). 
" if I lie. 18 confessed. i» Overseer, umpire. 



4i8 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



The rovvpaud Revin said, ' Sweit syster, lat 
see 
Your holy intent; for it is tyme to go.' 
The gredie Gled said, ' Brother, do nocht 
so; 460 

We wyll remane, and haldin up hir hede, 
And never depart from hir till scho be 
dede.' 

The Papingo thaine thankit tenderly e, 
And said, ' Sen ye have tane on yow this 
cure, 
Depart myne natural! guddis equalye, 
That ever I had or hes of dame Nature, 
First, to the Howlet,^ indigent and pure, 
Quhilk on the daye, for schame, dar nocht 

be sene; 
Tyll hir I laif my gaye galbarte 2 of grene. 

* My brycht depurit ene,^ as christall cleir, 

Unto the Bak ^ ye sail thame boith pre- 
sent; 471 
In Phebus pre sens quhilk dar nocht appeir. 
Of naturall syclit scho bene so impotent. 
My birneist ^ beik I laif, with gude en- 
tent. 
Unto the gentyll, pieteous Pellicane, 
To helpe to peirs hir tender hart in twane. 

* I laif the Goik,^ quhilk hes no sang bot 

one, 
My musyke, with my voce angelycall; 
And to the Guse ye geve, quhen I am 
gone, 
My eloquence and toung rhetoricall. 480 
And tak and drye my bonis, gret and 
small. 
Syne close thame in one cais of ebure''^ 

fyne. 
And thame present onto the Phenix syne, 

* To birne with hir quhen scho hir lyf e 

renewis. 
In Arabye ye sail hir fynde but weir,^ 
And sail knaw hir be hir moste hevinly 
hewis, 
Gold, asure, gowles,^ purpour, and syno- 

peir.i^ 
Hir dait ^^ is for to leif fyve houndreth 
yeir. 
Mak to that bird my commendatioun. 
And als, I mak yow supph^catioun, 490 

1 owl. 2 mantle. ' eyes. * bat. 5 burnished. 
6 cuckoo. 7 ivory. « without doubt. » red. 

xo green. 11 date, term of life. 



' Sen of my corps I have yow gevin the 
cure, 
Ye speid yow to the court, but tareyug, 

And tak my hart, of perfyte portrature, 
And it present unto my Soverane Kyng: 
I wat he wyll it clois in-to one ryng. 

Commende me to his Grace, I yow exhorte. 

And of my passion mak hym trew repoite. 

* Ye thre my trypes sail have, for your 

travell,i2 
With luffer and lowng,^^ to part equale 
amang yow; 
Prayand Pluto, the potent prince of hell, 
Geve ye failye, that in his feit he fang ^^ 
yow. SOI 

Be to me trew, thocht I no-thyng belang 
yow. 
Sore I suspect your conscience be too large.' 
' Doute nocht,' said they, ' we tak it with 
the charge.' 

*Adew, brether !' quod the pure Papingo; 
' To talking more I have no time totarye; 

Bot, sen my spreit mon fra my body go, 
I recommend it to the Queue of Farye, 
Eternallye in-tyll hir court to carye, 

In wyldernes among the holtis hore.' ^^ 510 

Than scho inclynit hir hed, and spak no 
more. 

Plungit in-tyll hir mortall passioun. 

Full grevouslie scho gryppit to the 
ground. 
It war too lang to mak narratioun 

Of sychis sore, with mony stang and 

stound.^^ 
Out of hii' wound the blude did so abound, 
One compas round was with hir blude maid 

reid: 
Without remeidji" thare wes no-thyng bot 
dede.^^ 

And be 1® scho had In Manus tuas said, 

Extinctit wer hir naturall wyttis fyve; 
Hir heid full softlye on hir schulder laid. 
Syne yeild the spreit, with panes pung- 
ityve.^*^ 522 

The Ravin began rudely to rngand ryve, 
Full gormondlyke,2i his emptie throte to 
feid. 

* Eit softlye, brother,' said the gredy Gled: 

12 travail, work. i3 liver and lung. ^^ seize. | 

15 grrRv wooded hills. is sting and pang. 1^ remedy. I 
IS death. i9 by the time that. 20 keen. 21 gluttonlike. 



KITTY'S CONFESSION 



419 



* Quhill scho is bote, depart hir eviu amang 

us. 
Tak tliow one half, and reik^to me ane- 
uther. 
In-tyll our rycht, I wat, no wycht dar wrang 
us.' 
The Pyote said, 'The feind resave the 

fouther! ^ 
Quhy mak ye me stepbarne, and I your 
brother ? 530 

Ye do me wrang, schir Gled, I schrew ^ your 
harte.' 

* Tak thare,' said he, ' the puddyngis ^ for 

thy parte.* 

Than, wyt ye weill, my hart wes wounder 
sair 
For to behalde that dolent departyng,^ 
Hir angell fedderis fieying in the air. 

Except the hart, was left of hir no-thing. 
The Pyote said, 'This pertenith to the 
Kyng, 
Quhilk tyll his Grace I purpose to pre- 
sent.' 
'Thow,' quod the Gled, 'sail faill of thyne 
entent.' 

The Revin said, ' God ! nor I rax in ane 

raipe, 540 

And 6 thow get this tyll outher kyng or 

duke ! ' 

The Pyote said, 'Plene 1 nocht' to the 

Pape 

Than in ane smedie ^ I be smorit^ with 

smuke.' 
With that the Gled the pece claucht in 
his cluke,^^ 
And fled his way: the lave, with all thair 

mycbt, 
To chace the Gled, flew all out of my sycht. 

Now have ye hard this lytill tragedie, 
The sore complent, the testament, and 
myschance 
Of this pure bird quhilk did ascend so 
hie. 
Beseikand yow excuse niyne ignorance 
And rude indyte,^^ quhilk is nocht tyll 
avance. 551 

And to the quair,!^ I geve commandiment, 
Mak no repair quhair poetis bene present. 

1 reach. 2 the lot. 3 beshrew. i entrails. 

B doleful dividing. ^ May I stretch on a rope, i.e., 

hang, if, etc. ? if I do not complain. 8 smithy. 

* smothered. 10 clutched in his claw. " style. 

la quire, book. 



Because thow bene 

But Rethorike, so rude, 
Be never sene 

Besyde none other buke. 
With Kyng, nor Queue, 

With lord, nor man of gude. 
With coit 1^ unclene, 560 

Clame kynrent^^ to sum cuke; 
Steil in ane nuke^^ 

Quhen thay lyste on thee luke. 
For smell of smuke 

Men wyll abhor to beir thee. 
Heir I manesweir ^^ thee ; 

Quhairfor, to lurke go leir " thee. 



KITTY'S CONFESSION 

THE CURATE AND KITTY 

The Curate Kittie culd confesse. 
And scho tald on baith mair and lesse. 

Quhen scho was telland as scho wist,i^ 
The Curate Kittie wald have kist; 
Bot yit ane countenance he bure 
Degeist,^'' devote, daine,^^ and demure; 
And syne began hir to exenipne.-i 
He wes best at the efter game. 
Quod he, ' Have ye na wrangous geir ? ' 22 
Quod scho, ' I staw^'^ ane pek of beir.'^^ iq 
Quod he, ' That suld restorit be, 
Thare for delyver it to me. 
Tibbie and Peter bad me speir -^ ; 
Be my conscience, thay sail it heir.' 
Quod he, ' Leve ye in lecherie ? ' 
Quod scho, ' Will Leno mowit^e me.' 
Quod he, ' His wyfe that sail I tell, 
To mak hir acquentance wdth my-sell.' 
Quod he, * Ken ye na heresie ? ' 
' I wait noclit quhat that is,' quod sche. ao 
Quod he, ' Hard ye na Inglis bukis ? ' ^^ 
Quod scho, ' My maister on tliame lukis.' 
Quod he, ' The bischop that sail knaw, 
For I am sworne that for to schaw.' 
Quod he, ' What said he of the King ? ' 
Quod scho, ' Of gude he spak na-thing.' 
Quod he, * His Grace of that sail wit; 
And he sail lose his lyfe for it.' 

Quhen scho in mynd did mair revolve, 
Quod he, 'I can nocht you absolve, 30 

Bot to my chalmer cum at even 
Absolvit for to be and schrevin.' 

13 coat. 1* kindred. is nook. is forswear. 

" learn, is as best she knew, is Grave. 20 modest. 
21 examine. 22 illicit possessions. 23 stole. 24 barley. 
25 ask. 26 toyed with. 27 Reformation writings, 
especially the Bible, printed in England. 



420 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



Quod scho, * I wvll pas tyll ane-uther. 

And I met with Schir Andro, my brother, 

And he full cleiiely did me schryve. 

Bot he wes sumthing talkatyve; 

He speirit^ mony strange ease, 

How that my lufe did me iubrace, 

Quhat day, how oft, quhat sort, and quhare ? 

Quod he, " I wald I had bene thaie." 40 

He me absolvit for ane plak,"^ 

Thocht ^ he na pryce with me wald mak; 

And mekil Latyne he did mummill, 

I hard na- thing bot hum mill bum mill. 

He schew me nocht of Goddis word, 

Qidiilk scharper is than ony sword. 

And deip intill our hart dois prent 

Our syn, quharethrow we do repent. 

He pat me na-thing into feir, 

Quharethrow I suld my syn forbeir; 50 

He schew me nocht the maledictioun 

Of God for syn, nor the affiictioun 

And in this lyfe the greit mischeif 

Ordanit to punische hure and theif ; 

Nor schew he me of hellis pane, 

That I mycht feir, and vice refraine; 

He counsalit me nocht till abstene, 

And leid ane holy lyfe, and clene. 

Of Christis blude na-thing he knew, 

Nor of His promisses full trew, 60 

That saifis all that wyll beleve. 

That Sathan sail us never greve. 

He teichit me nocht for till traist 

The confort of the Haly Ghaist. 

He bad me nocht to Christ be kynd. 

To keip His law with hart and mynd. 

And lufe and thank His greit mercie, 

Fra syn and hell that savit me ; 

And lufe my nichtbour as my-sell. 

Of this na-thing he culd me tell, 70 

Bot gave me pennance, ilk ane day 

Ane A ve Marie for to say. 

And Fridayis fyve na fische to eit, 

(Bot butter and eggis ar better meit), 

And with ane plak to buy ane messe 

Fra drounkin Schir Jhone Latynelesse. 

Quod he, " Ane plak I wyll gar Sandie 

Give thee agane, with handie dandic." ^ 

Syne '^ into pilgrimage to pas — 

The yerray way to wantounes. 80 

Of all his pennance I was glaid, 

I had them all perqueir,^ I said. 

To mow and steill I ken the pryce, 

I sail it set on cincq and syce."^ 

1 asked about. » the third of a penny. « Though. 
* a child's guessing game. ^ Then. 6 by heart. 

7 "five and six," dicing terms. 



Bot he my counsale culd nocht keip; 
He maid him be the fyre to sleip, 
Syne cryit, " Colleris,^ beif and coillis,® 
Hois, and schone with dowbill soillis, 
Caikis and candill, creische ^'^ and salt, 
Curnis^i of meill, and luiffillis^- of malt, 90 
Wollin and linning, werp and woft — 
Dame ! keip the keis of your woU loft ! " 
Throw drink and sleip maid him to raif ; 
And swa with us thay play the knaif.' 

Freiris sweiris be thair professioun 
Nane can be saif but ^^ this Confessioun, 
And garris all men understand 
That it is Goddis awin command. 
Yit it is nocht but mennis drame. 
The pepill to confound and scliame. 100 

It is nocht ellis but mennis law. 
Maid mennis mindis for to knaw, 
Quharethrow thay syle ^^ thame as thay 

will. 
And makis thair law conforme tharetill, 
Sittand in mennis conscience 
Abone Goddis magnificence; 
And dois the pepill teche and tyste ^^ 
To serve the Pape the Antechriste. 

To the greit God Omnipotent 
Confess thy syn, and sore repent; no 

And traist in Christ, as wrytis Paule, 
Quhilk sched his blude to saif thy saule; 
For nane can thee absolve bot He, 
Nor tak away thy syn frome thee. 
Gif of gude counsall thow hes neid, 
Or hes nocht leirnit weill thy Creid, 
Or wickit vicis regne in thee. 
The quhilk thow can nocht mortifie. 
Or be in desperatioun, 

And wald have consolatioun, 120 

Than till ane preichour trew thow pas, 
And schaw thy syn and thy trespas. 
Thow neidis nocht to schaw him all, 
Nor tell thy syn baith greit and small, 
Quhilk is un possible to be; 
Bot schaw the vice that troubillis thee. 
And he sail of thy saule have reuth, 
And thee instruct in-to the treuth, 
And with the Word of Yeritie 
Sail confort and sail counsall thee, 130 

The sacramentis schaw thee at lenth, 
Thy lytle faith to stark and strenth,i^ 
And how thow suld thame richtlie use, 
And all hypocrisie refuse. 

8 Collars. 9 coals. 10 lard. " Grains. " hand- 
fuls. 13 without. 1* deceive. i* decoy. 1^ to 
increase and strengthen. 



THE TESTAMENT OF SQUIRE MELDRUM 



421 



Confessioun first wes ordanit fre 
In this sort in the Kirk to be. 
Swa to confes as I deseryve,i 
Wes in the gude Kirk primityve; 
Swa wes confessioun ordanit first, 139 

Thocht Codrus^ kyte^ suld eleve and birst. 



THE TESTAMENT OF SQUIRE 
MELDRUM 

The holie man lob, ground of pacience, 
In his greit trubill trewlie did report, — 
Quhilk I persave, now, be experience, — 
That mennis lyfe, in eirth, bene ^ wounder 

short. 
My youth is gane; and eild^ now dois resort: 
My time is gane; I think it bot ane dreame: 
Yit ef ter deith remane sail my gude fame. 

I persave shortlie that I man ^ pay my det: 
To me in eirth no place bene permanent: 
My hart on it no niair now will I set, 10 
Bot, with the help of God omnipotent. 
With resolute mind, go mak my Testament, 
And tak my leif at cuntrienien and kyn, 
And all the warld: and thus I will begyn. 

Thrie Lordis to me sal be execntoiiris, — 
Lindesayis, all thrie, in surname of renoun: 
Of my Testament thay sail have haiF the 

cure,^ 
To put my mind ^ till executioun. 
That surname failyeit^^ never to the Croun; 
Na mair will thay to me, I am richt sure, 
Quhilk is the cans that I give them the 

cure. 21 

First, David, Erll of Craufuird, wise and 

wicht;^^ 
And lohne, Lord Lindesay, my maister 

special. 
The thrid sal be ane nobill travellit Knicht, 
Quhilk knawis the coistis of feistis funeral: 
The wise Sir Walter Lindesay they him cal, 
Lord of St. lohne, and Knicht of Torfi- 

chane, 
Be sey and laud ane vailyeand Capitane. 

Thocht age hes maid my bodie impotent, 
Yit in my hart hie courage doeth pre- 
cell;i2 30 

* describe. 2 A poet ridiculed by Virgil in the 

Eclogues. ' belly. ■• is. & old age. ^ must. 
7 wholly. 8 care. » intention. 10 failed. " brave, 
stout. 12 dominate. 



Quhairfoir, I leif to God, with gude intent, 
My spreit, the quhilk he hes maid immor- 

tell, 
Intill his Court perpetuallie to dwell, 
And nevir moir to steir^^ furth of that 

steid. 
Till Christ discend and judge baith quick 

and deid. 

I yow beseik, my Lordis Executouris, 
My geir 1^ geve till the nixt of my kynrent.^^ 
It is Weill kendji® I never tuik na cures 
Of conquessing of riches nor of rent: 
Dispone ^'' as ye think maist expedient. 40 
I never tuik cure of gold more than of glas. 
Without honour, fy, fy vpon riches! 

I yow requeist, my friendis, ane and all, 
And nobill men, of quhome I am descendit, 
Faill not to be at my feist funerall, 
Quhilk throw the warld, I traist, sal be 

commendit. 
Ye knaw how that my fame I have defendit. 
During my life, unto this latter hour, 
Quhilk suld to yow be infinit plesour. 

First, of my bowellis clenge^^ my bodie 

clene, 50 

Within and out; syne,!^ wesche it weill with 

wyne, — 
Bot honestie^o see that nothing be sene; — 
Syne, clois it in ane coistlie carvit schryne 
Of ceder treis, or of cyper fyne: 
Anoynt my corps with balme delicious, 
With cynamome, and spycis precious. 

In twa caissis of gold and precious stanis 
Inclois my bait and toung, richt craf telle: 
My sepulture, sune, gar-^ mak for my banis. 
Into the Tenipill of Mars, triumphandlie, 60 
Of marbill stanis carvit richt curiouslie, 
Quhairin my kist^^ and banis ye sail clois, 
In that triumphand Tempill to repois. 

Mars, Venus, and Mercurius, all thre 
Gave me my natural inclinatiounis, 
Quhilk rang ^3 the day of my nativitie; 
And sa thair hevinlie constellatiounis 
Did me support in monie natiounis. 
]\Iars maid me bardie like ane feirs lyoun, 
Quhairthrow I conqueist honour and re- 
noun. 70 

13 stir. 1^ property. is kindred. '^ known. 
17 Dispose. 18 cleanse, i^ then. 20 Without honor. 
21 cause. 22 coffin. 23 reigned. 



422 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 



Quho list to knaw the actis bellical/ 
Let thauie go reici the legend of my life; 
Thair sail thai fiiid the deidis niartiall, 
How I have stand, in monie stalwart strife, 
Victorioushe, with speir, sheild, sword, and 

knife : 
Quhairfoir, to Mars, the God Armipotent, 
My corps incloisit ye do till him present. 

Mak offering of my toung rhetorieall 
Till Mercurias, quhilk gaif me eloquence. 
In his Tempill to hing perpetiiall: 80 

I can mak him na better recompence; 
For, quhen I was broclit to the presence 
Of Kings, in Scotland, Ingland, and in 

France, 
My ornate toung my honour did avance. 

To fresche Yenus my hart ye sail present, 
Quhilk hes to me bene, ay, comfortabill: 
And in my face sic grace scho did imprent. 
All creatures did think me amiabill. 
Wemen to me scho maid sa favorabill, 
Wes never ladie that Inikit in my face, 90 
Bot honestlie I did obtene hir grace. 



And, syne, hing vp, above my sepulture, 
My bricht harnes, my scheild, and als my 

speir, 
Togidder with my courtlie coit armour, 
Quhilk I wes wont upon my bodie heir, 
In France, in Ingland, being at the weir; 2 
My baner, basnet,^ with my temperall,^ 
As bene the use of feistis funerall. 

This beand^ done, I pray yow tak the pane 
My Epitaphe to writ, upon this wyis, 100 
Abone my grave, in goldin letteris fyne: 
* The maist invincibill weiriour heir lyis. 
During his time quhilk wan sic laud and 

pryis, 
That throw the hevinis sprang his nobil 

fame: 
Victorious William Meldrum wes his name.' 

Adew! my Lordis; I may na langer tarie: 
My Lord Lindesay, adew! abone all uther. 
I pray to God, and to the Yirgine Marie, 
With your Lady to leif lang in the Struther. 
Maister Patrik, with young Normond, your 
brother, no 

With my Ladies, your sisteris, al, adew! 
My departing, I wait weill, ye will rew. 
1 warlike. 2 war. 3 helmet. * coat-armor. » being. 



Bot, maist of all, the fair Ladies of France, 
Quhen thai heir tell, but dout, that I am 

deid. 
Extreme dolour wil change thair counte- 
nance. 
And, for my saik, will weir the murning 

weid. 
Quhent hir novellis® dois into Ingland spreid, 
Of Loudoun, than, the lustie ladies cleir 
Will, for my saik, mak dule and drerie cheir. 

Of Craigfergus my dayis darling, adew! 120 

In all Ireland of feminine the flour. 

In your querrell twa men of weir I slew, 

Quhilk purposit to do yow dishonour. 

Ye suld have bene my spous and paramour. 

With rent and riches for my recompence, 

Quhilk I refusit, throw youth and insolence. 

Fair weill! ye lemauf^ lampis of lustines 
Of fair Scotland: adew! my Ladies all. 
During my youth, with ardent besines, 
Ye knaw how I was in your service thrall. 
Ten thowsand times adew! above thame 

all, 131 

Sterne ^ of Stratherne, my Ladie Soverane, 
For quhom I sched my blud with mekill 

pane! 

Yit, wald my Ladie luke,at evin and morrow. 
On my Legend at lenth, scho wald not mis 
How, for hir saik, I sufferit mekill sorrow. 
Yit, give^ I micht, at this time, get my wis,i'' 
Of hir sweit mouth, deir God, I had ane kis. 
I wis in vane: allace! we will dissever. 139 
I say na mair: sweit hart adew for ever! 

Brether in Armes, adew, in generall ! 

For me, I wait,ii your hartis bene full soir. 

All trew companyeounis, into speciall, 

I say to yow, adew, for evermoir. 

Till that we meit agane with God in Gloir! 

Sir Curat, now gif me, incontinent. 

My crysme,^ with the holie Sacrament, 



My Spreit hartlie I recommend 

In manus tuas, Domine. 

My hoip to the is till ascend, 

Rex, quia rede mis ti me. 

Fra syn resurrexisti me; 

Or eliis my saull had bene forlorne: 

With sapience docuisti me; 

Blist be the hour that thow wes borne ! 



150 



6 these news. ^ flaming. 8 star. 9 if. 
11 "wot, know. 12 extreme miction. 



10 wish. 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 



ROBERT MANNING OF BRUNNE 

Robert Manning lived, perhaps as a canon, in various houses of the Gilbertine order 
in Lincolnshire. For a score of years, he tells us, he was in the priory of Bruunewake in 
Kesteven, six miles from Sempringham, in the extreme south of the county; and here in 
1303 he began the Handling Sin, a free translation in 12,632 lines of William of Wadiug- 
ton's French Manuel des Pechiez. (Wadington is an insignificant place four miles south of 
Lincoln.) It is, he carefully explains, a manual of sins for unlearned people, treating of the 
ten commandments, the seven deadly sins, and the like, in purposely simple English, and 
garnished with sixty-five attractive tales — more than the French version has. Of these the 
two in the text are fair samples, although the first is not in the French at all, and the 
second is much shorter there. The rest of our extract is valuable as illustrating the man- 
ners of the time; indeed the Handling Sin is an entertaining poem, and a worthy fore- 
runner of the Canterbury Tales and the Confessio Amaniis. The other important work of 
Manning's is his Chronicle, finished about 1338 at the priory of Sixtill (or Six Hills), in 
the middle of Lincolnshire. The first part of this is a translation of Wace's Brut, the sec- 
ond of Pierre Langtoft's French Chronicle. Langtoft was born presumably at the hamlet 
of that name close to Brunne (or Bourne), and was Canon of Bridlington, on the York- 
shire coast. From such indications as these we can infer that there was a good deal of 
literary activity in the northern countries in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth 
centuries. It is an odd little circumstance that at another Gilbertine house at which Robert 
Manning stayed — at Cambridge — he met Robert the Bruce, and was at a feast with 
Bruce's two brothers, one of whom " made a carved king," says Manning, "and was the 
best artist of his time." 

The first part of the Chronicle has been edited by Thomas Hearne. Oxford, 1725, and 
the second by Furnivall, London, 1889 ; the Handling Sin, by Furnivall for the Early 
English Text Soc, Loudon, 1901-03. The present text is Furnivall's with a few changes 
in punctuation and typography; thus the letters ^ and J? have been replaced by their 
modern equivalents, u and v distinguished, and the capitalization normalized. 

THE GAWAIN POET 

The unknown author ^ of four poems in the British Museum manuscript Cotton Nero 
A. X-|-4 is one of the most distinguished literary figures of the Middle Ages in Eng- 
land. The poems are The Pearl, Cleanness (or Purity), Patience, and Gawain and the 
Green Knight — all edited by R. Morris for the E. E. T. S., the first three in Early Eng- 
lish Alliterative Poems, the last in Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight (revised by GoUancz, 
1912) ; later editions of T'he Pearl by C. G. Osgood in the Belles Lettres Series, 1906, and by 
I. Gollancz, London, 1907; and of Patience by H. Bateson, Manchester, 1912. The Pearl is 
a highly finished elegy in an elaborate stanza; Gaicain is a stirring Arthurian romance, 
informed with a beautiful spirit of honor and purity. Of these two we give complete 
translations, with a sample of the original text. Patience and Cleanness, of 500 and 1800 
lines respectively, are written in the most powerful and highly colored alliterative verse, 
the former telling the story of Jonah, the latter Belshazzar's impious feast and fate. 

1 It ought t t be noted that the identification of the author of Gawain and the Green Knight with that of !%« 
Peor/, etc., i- jased on internal evidence and is not universally accepted. 



426 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

Tuese four, with Witiner and Waster and The Parliament of the Three Ages (edited together 
by GoUancz for the Roxburghe Club, 1897) and the Thornton Morte Arthure (edited by 
Perry and Brock for the E. E. T. S., and by M. M. Banks, London, 1900; translation by 
A. Boyle in Everyman's Library), are the artistic culmination of the great alliterative 
revival of the fourteenth century. Of our author we know only what can be deduced from 
his works — that he was a native of Lancashire or thereabouts, since he uses the North- 
West-Midland dialect; a person of chivalrous as well as religious feeling; higlily edu- 
cated, and conversant with the best society of his time. Guesses about his personality may 
be found in Gollancz and Bateson. His work appears to fall within the third quarter of 
the fourteenth century. 

The exact signification of The Pearl has of late been much discussed. The opinion that 
it is mainly a religious allegory written to support certain theological opinions, though 
cast with consummate skill into the form of an elegy, has made much headway since it was 
proposed by W. H. Schofield in the Publications of the Modern Language Association of 
America, vol. xix (1904), p. 154; yet many scholars still prefer to consider that it is a 
genuine lament for a little child, and that the theological matter is secondary. Although 
a vision setting was one of the commonest devices of mediaeval poetry, as one may see in 
the Romance of' the Rose, Dante, and Chaucer, the only piece known that bears any strik- 
ing resemblance to The Pearl is Boccaccio's fourteenth eclogue, probably composed in 1360: 
their relationship is discussed in Schofield's article, p. 204, and in Osgood's introduction. 
The Pearl has been translated by Gollancz (1891), by S. Weir Mitchell (N. Y., 1906 — 
incomplete), by G. C. Coulton (1906), by C. G. Osgood (1907), by Sophie Jewett (N. Y., 
1908), and by Miss Jessie Weston (in Romance, Vision, and Satire, Boston, 1912). 

Gawain and the Green Knight represents and crowns a great number of Gawain 
romances, most of which were collected by Sir Frederick Madden in his Sir Gawayne, 
edited for the Bannatyne Club in 1839. Gawain was originally the hero par excellence of 
the Round Table, a knight peerless for utter courage and courtesy. Other heroes in time 
and in turn became more popular than he, and in some of the French prose romances of 
the thirteenth century his character was defaced that others might appear to excel him; 
and Malory and Tennyson have unfortunately perpetuated the debased portrait. The 
immediate source of our poem was probably a lost French romance. The only editions are 
Madden's, which is rare, and Morris's, but a new one is preparing. Translations have been 
published by Miss Weston in Arthurian Romances Unrepresented in Malorfs Morte 
c?' Arthur, No. 1, London, 1898, in prose, and in Romance, Vision, and Satire in verse; by 
E. J. B. Kirtlan, London (1912), and by C. M. Lewis, New Haven, Conn., 1913 — the last 
a free retelling. Recent articles are those of Knott in Modern Language Notes, xxx (1915), 
p. 102, and Hulbert in Modern Philology, xiii (1915), p. 433. An important Study of 
Gawain and the Green Knight by Professor Kittredge has just been published, Cambridge, 
Mass., 1916. 

The translations of The Pearl and Gawain and the Green Knight here offered were made 
in full knowledge of the difficulty, well-nigh futility, of the task, and aim simply at stick- 
ing close to the text and shirking none of the hard places. 

WILLIAM LANGLAND 

Upon the dubious evidence of notes in certain of the manuscripts the author of Piers 
Plowman is generally considered to be one William Langland, of Cleobury Mortimer in 
Shropshire; and by the equally unsafe method of identifying the Long Will of the poem 
with the author a sort of biography has been made out for him. But as a matter of 
fact the authorship is uncertain. 

The poem itself was extremely popular, so that numerous manuscripts of it still exist. 
These fall into three groups, making three versions: the A text is a succinct vision con- 
cerning Piers the Plowman in eight passus, followed by four passus of the visioi of Do Wei, 
Do Bet, and Do Best. This is usually termed the earliest version, written perhaps in 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 427 

1362. Two revisions and enlargements are called the B and C texts, and dated 1377 and 
1399 respectively. These have generally been deemed the work of the first author; but 
within the last decade the opinion has spread that they are the work of different hands. 

The poem is one of the most significant of the age, picturing as it does with graphic 
simplicity the social and political life of the times from the standpoint of the masses. It 
is an indispensable counterpart to the more artistic and more fashionable works of Chau- 
cer. In form Piers Plowman is an allegorical vision, written in the old-fashioned allitera- 
tive metre which was undergoing so remarkable a revival in this century. 

The standard edition is W. W. Skeat's in two volumes, London, 1886, containing all 
three versions with a complete apparatus. Professor Manly states his new theory in 
the Cambridge History of English Literature, li, 1 ; and both sides of the case are pre- 
sented in the E. E. T. S. publication, The Piers Plowman Controversy, being Original 
Series, Extra Issue 139 b, c, d, e, London, 1910 (published 1912). 

The present modernization follows line by line what seems to have been the original 
form of the A version, as given by Skeat; the attempt being made to preserve as much of 
the alliteration as possible, but yet render the language intelligible to the general reader. 

JOHN COWER 

John Gower, who for centuries ranked as the peer of Chaucer, died an old man in 
1408; and his splendid tomb may still be seen in St. Saviour's Church, South wark. He 
was a well-to-do member of an extensive Kentish family, and possibly a merchant. Prac- 
tically nothing is known of his life, but we possess his long and interesting will. His 
chief works were the Speculum Meditantis or Mirour de VOmme (before 1380), a French 
poem of some 30,000 lines, treating of the sins, passing in review the various classes of 
the world, and giving the scheme of salvation; the Vox Clamantis (1382), some 10,000 
lines in Latin, sombre, grandiose, largely allegorical, depicting the degeneracy of the 
times as indicated by the great Peasants' Revolt of 1381; and finally the Confessio Aman- 
tis (1390) in English, about 33,000 lines in eight books. In this an elderly lover, dis- 
satisfied with his rewards, is made to confess to Genius, Venus' priest, who elucidates 
for him the points of shrift by over a hundred stories, — with manifold digressions and 
inconsistencies, — and finally counsels the lover to renounce love and pursue morality. 
The style of these stories is smooth and lucid, the narrative admirably direct. 

Gower is one of the pillars of English literature: he writes in the same pure and ele- 
gant language as Chaucer, and though much more conservative — more " mediaeval " — ■ 
than Chaucer, lacking indeed his genius and humor, he represents worthily the tendencies 
of his time. 

The standard edition is that of G. C. Macaulay, 4 vols., Oxford, 1901, from which our 
extracts are taken. The capitalization has been modernized. 

GEOFFREY CHAUCER 

Geoffrey Chaucer was born in London presumably about 1340, the son of a highly 
reputable wine-merchant. From the royal records and household accounts we obtain 
an unusually accurate knowledge of his external life. We first discover him at seven- 
teen, a page in the house of the Countess of Ulster, wife of Prince Lionel, third son of 
Edward III; and a few years later a valet and finally a squire of the King, serving to 
some extent John of Gavmt also, Edward's fourth son. When about twenty-six he mar- 
ried Philippa, a lady of the court, probably sister of John of Gaunt's third wife, Kather- 
ine Swynford. From his royal masters and friends Chaucer and his wife received for their 
services pensions ranging from forty to sixty pounds yearly, which might represent 
$3800 or 85200 of our money; and similar grants were continued to the poet after Phil- 
ippa's death by Edward Ill's successors, Richard II and Henry IV. Chaucer held two 



428 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

custom-house appointments, one for twelve, and one for four years, for which he received 
the customary fees, whatever they were. At least seven times he was sent abroad — to 
Flanders, France, and Italy — on the King's business, diplomatic and commercial; and we 
have records of payments to him on these occasions. He was clerk of the king's works at 
various places for two years at a good salary, a member of Parliament for Kent for one 
year, one of a commission to repair the bank of the Thames, a royal forester, and so on; 
and besides tliese sources of income he had his share of the perquisites of office and lu- 
crative royal favors. In his prime, then, our great poet was a well-to-do man of affairs. In 
1386 he met with reverses, and towards the end of his life he appears actually to have 
been in straits for want of money; however, when he died in 1400 he was again prosperous. 

Chaucer's principal works are: a translation of the French Rommice of the Rose, an 
early work, of which, at most, only a fragment is extant; The House of Fame (1379?), an 
aerial journey related in a whimsical and assured style, but left unfinished; The Parlia- 
ment of Fowls (1382), a lively allegory; a prose translation of Boethius' Consolation of 
Philosophy (1383); Troilus and Criseyda (1384), a long and perfectly wrought version of 
Boccaccio's Filostrato; the Legend of Good Women (1385), also unfinished, with a pretty, 
spirited prologue and nine hurried lives or legends of amorous " martyrs "; and the Can- 
terbury Tales (1386-94). Chaucer began like a good craftsman by translating from the 
French masters of his own century; then he came under the influence of the still greater 
Italians; and finally in the Canterbury Tales — from whatever source he appropriated his 
plots — he developed into our raciest, most thoroughly English-flavored, poet. These so- 
called "periods," however, are not mutually exclusive. The great position which Chaucer 
at once won and has ever since held served as much as the influence of London and the 
court to make his deft and melodious language the standard of literary English. 

The principal modern editions of Chaucer are Skeat's, in six volumes, with complete 
apparatus, Oxford, 1899; Skeat's Students^ Chaucer, and the Globe Chaucer by Pollard 
and others. Pollard's Chaucer Primer is a helpful companion. The Chaucer Society (now, 
alas, extinct) has printed much valuable material. Miss E. P. Hammond's Chaucer, a Biblio- 
graphical Manual, gives all the works upon Chaucer down to 1908. Our text is Skeat's 
in the Students' Chaucer, with half a dozen conservative changes. 

Important critical works are Studies in Chaucer, by T. R. Lounsbury, 3 vols.. New York, 
1892; The Poetry of Chaucer, by R. K. Root, Boston, 1906; Geoffrey Chaucer by Emile 
Legouis, London and N. Y., 1913; and Chaucer and his Poetry^ by G. L. Kittredge, Cam- 
bridge, Mass., 1915. 

THE CANTERBURY TALES 

The Canterbury Tales is far from being a completed work. The twenty-nine pilgrims 
were each to tell two (or four — see 11. 792-794 of the Prologue) stories ; but we have 
only twenty finished, and four unfinished. Thus many gaps are left in our MSS., and edi- 
tors designate the detached groups as A, B, C, etc. The Knight's Tale (2250 lines) is an 
adaptation of Boccaccio's Teseide (9054 lines). Less than a third of Chaucer's poem is 
actual translation, the rest being his own variations. The theme was one in which Chaucer 
bad long been interested, and traces of Boccaccio's poem crop up in Anelida and Arcite, The 
Parliament of Fowls, Troilus, and The Legend of Good Women. The Prioresses Tale Chaucer 
has taken from some Latin prose version current in England of this favorite legend. 
Strangely enough, the precise sort of Jew-baiting here pictured still persists in Russia and 
elsewhere, and not infrequently appears in the press. Sir Thopas is a merry burlesque of 
the most popular romances, like Guy of Warwick, Amis and Amiloun, Launfal, Libeaus 
Disconus, and Sir Tristram. The Nun's Priest's Tale of the Cock and the Fox is a story 
from the almost universal Reynard the Fox cycle, on which point one might consult Miss 
Petersen's " On the Sources of the Nonne Prestes Tale''' Boston, 1898. The Pardoner's 
Tale is a sort of sermon, or exemplum, on the text. Radix malorum est cupiditas, and the 
edifying plot is one much employed both in the East and the West. Compare, for ex- 
ample, Kipling's King's Ankus, and the Decameron f Day 6, Novel 10. The Wife of Bath's 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 429 

story belongs to a well-known type, a version of it being found, for instance, in Bishop 
Percy's Folio MS., vol. i., as 7'Ae Marriage of Sir Gawaine, and in Sir Frederick Maddeu's 
Sir Gaioayne as the Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Ragnel. For the oldest types of it 
see G. H. Maynadier's Wife of Bath's Tale, Londou, 1901. 

THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 

The thirteenth century French Roman de la Rose, by Guillaume de Lorris and Jean de 
Meun, was one of the most influential of European poems. Chaucer shows extreme 
familiarity with it, and tells us {Legend of Good Women, A Prologue, 255) that he trans- 
lated it. The extant English version, of 7696 lines as contrasted with the 22,000 of the 
original, passed without question as his until 1870. Since then the authorship has been 
much debated ; and at present most are inclined to call lines 1-1705 Chaucer's, lines 1706- 
5810 not Chaucer's, the rest possibly his; but the matter is not entirely settled. For a 
summary of the discussion see Miss Hammond's Chaucer, p. 451. The French poem has been 
edited by Meon, Paris, 1814, and by others. From the end of our excerpt the story goes 
on to tell how the youth entered the garden and fell in love with a fair bud in the rosary; 
how with the help of Good Reception and Venus he kissed it; then how Jealousy, Scandal 
and others drove him off; and how after a long strife, which Jean de Meun sows with in- 
teresting digressions, the lover finally won his rose. 

THE PARLIAMENT OF FOWLS 

The Parliament of Fowls celebrates the wooing by Richard II of the Lady Anne of 
Bohemia, whom he married at Westminster in January, 1382. Richard is the formel 
eagle, the other eagles his unsuccessful rivals. The vision setting is noteworthy as having 
been employed by Chaucer in several of his poems, probably under the influence of the 
Romance of the Rose and of the more recent French verse. On the interpretation of the 
historical allegory see Emerson, Modern Philology, viii (1910), p. 45, and Moore, Modern 
Language Notes for Jan. 19H. 

TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 

The real creator of the Troilus and Criseyde story is Benoit de Sainte-Maure, who made 
it a conspicuous episode in his Estorie {or Roman) de Troie, an elaborate and entertainingly 
mediaeval account of the fall of Troy in over 30,000 lines, written in the north-west 
of France about 1160 (ed. L. Constans for the Soci^td des Anciens Textes Frangais, 
1904 f.). Benoit elaborated the brief accounts of the Trojan War found in the late Latin 
writers Dares and Dictys; and his own work was latinized in about 1287 by Guido da 
Colonna (or delle Colonne) of Messina as the Historia Trojana. This again was the source 
of Boccaccio's Filostrato, Chaucer's immediate model. Chaucer, however, takes only about 
half of the Italian, adds twice that amount of his own, and recurs occasionally to Boc- 
caccio's predecessors. A minute comparison of the two works has been made by W. M. 
Rossetti in the publications of the Chaucer Society for 1875. Valuable recent articles are 
those by R. K. Root, in The Poetry of Chaucer, Boston, 1906, chap. 6; K. Young, Origin 
and Development of the Story of T. ^^ C, Chaucer Soc, 1908; Tatlock, Development and 
Chronology of Chaucer^s Works, Chaucer Soc, 1907, p. 1. f. ; Kittredge, The Development 
of Chaucer's Troilus, etc., Chaucer Soc, 1909. 

THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN 

The Legend of Good Women was planned to celebrate the constancy in love of twenty 
fainous ladies ; but Chaucer wearied of the undertaking and gave it up after nine of their 



430 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

legends were finished. His models may have been the Heroides of Ovid, the De Claris 
MuUeribus of Boccaccio, and similur collections. It is an interesting circumstance that the 
Prologue, quite the most charming part of the poem, exists in two versions, of which the 
shorter or A version appears to be the later — though the matter is still in dispute. And 
this prologue, especially near the beginning, is in diction so amazingly like the works 
of the contemporary French poets Machault, Froissart, and Deschamps, that it has been 
surmised tliat Chaucer wrote it largely as a compliment to them and sent it to Deschamps 
in acknowledgment of certain flattering stanzas addressed by Deschamps to him. Impor- 
tant articles on The Legend are those of J. L. Lowes in the Publication of the Modern 
Language Association of America, xix, 593, and xx, 749, and J. C. French's The Problem 
of the Two Prologues, etc., Baltimore, 1905. 

THOMAS HOCCLEVE 

The ingenuous Thomas Hoccleve (or Occleve) was born about 1367, and died about 
1450, so that he was precisely a contemporary of Lydgate. Like Lydgate he was a dis- 
ciple and a profound admirer of Chaucer, perhaps indeed, as he claims, a friend. He was 
a Londoner, living till his old age at Chester's Inn (where Somerset House now stands), 
and daily going by the Strand or the river to his work in the Privy Seal office at West- 
minster. From officiul records and his own garrulous poems, we know a good deal about 
his life. In early manhood he lived gayly and extravagantly — at least so he says; when 
middle-aged and poor he married — for love; and when old he was cared for in South- 
wick Priory Hampshire. His chief works are the Letters of Cupid (475 11.), translated 
from Christine de Pisan in 1402; La Male Regie (448 11.), 1406, autobiographical; The 
Regement of Princes (5463 11.), 1412, a book of advice for Prince Hal, from the De 
Regimine Principum of Aegidius Romanus, and other sources; the Complaint (413 11.) and 
the Dialogue (826 11.), both about 1421, autobiographical poems. He wrote very pleasing 
short pieces — balades, roundels, etc. — and versified two stories from the Gesta Romano- 
rum. Hoccleve's work is interesting for the naive autobiographical det-ails, the satire on 
follies of the day — like long sleeves — and the sincere tributes to Chaucer and Gower. 

The verse is as a rule mechanical, unmusical, yet in certain of the short poems it shows 
spirit, and something like virtuosity. The extracts are from F. J. Furnivall's Edition of 
Hoccleve in 3 volumes for the E. E. T. S., with the capitalization somewhat modernized 
and u and v distinguished. 

JOHN LYDGATE 

John Lydgate lived from about 1370 to about 1450, a large part of this time as a 
monk of Bury St. Edmunds. For a while he was a priest of Hatfield Regis. Little else 
is known of his life, but judging from his many occasional poems, he dwelt much in the 
world and was a favorite of princes and nobles. His principal works are : The Temple of 
Glass (1403 11., in 7-line stanzas), Reason and Sensuality (7040 11., in short couplets, un- 
finished, rich in mediaeval description, where Pallas and Yenus strive for the author's alle- 
giance), The Troy Book (30,117 11. in heroic couplets). The Pilgrimage of the Life of Man 
(24,832 11. in short couplets). The Fall of Princes (36,316 11. in 7- and 8-line stanzas), 
and the Secreta Secretorum, or Secrees of Olde Philosoffres (1491 11. in rhyme royal). Be- 
sides this bulk of somewhat heavy poems, Lydgate produced a great amount of minor 
verse in various keys, such as fables, saints' lives, religious lyrics, mummings and satires, 
and in these much of his best is foimd. Lydgate's reputation in his lifetime was very 
great; he was constantly named with Chaucer and Gower, and early MSS. and reprints of 
his works abound. Of late he has been unduly depreciated, partly from lack of material 
to judge him by, partly from the corrupt state of the text. Now his works are gradually 
being made accessible. The best account of his life is in Schick's edition of The Temple 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 431 

of Glass, E. E. T. S., London, 1891. H. N. MacCracken in The Minor Poems of John Lyd- 
gate, vol. i, E. E. T. S., 1911, is authoritative on the Lydgate canon. Lydgate's style is 
smooth, dignified, long-winded; yet at times he attains liveliness and even grace. His 
diction is incredibly tinctured by that of his revered master, Chaucer. Both in matter and 
manner he is thoroughly representative of the late fourteenth and early fifteenth cen- 
turies; he is a storehouse of mediaeval commonplace. 

JOHN SKELTON 

The extraordinarily conceited, whimsical, and pugnacious John Skelton was probably 
born at Diss in Norfolk about 1460. He was educated at Cambridge, and received the 
degree in rhetoric of Poeta Laureatus — of which he was extremely vain — not only from 
Cambridge, but from Oxford and Louvain as well. His great learning is attested by Cax- 
ton in the preface to his JEneid, by Erasmus, and by the fact that (about 1498) he was 
made tutor to the prince who (in 1509) became Henry VIII: it is likewise sufficiently 
patent in his works. From them it is plain that he was much at court, or at least about 
London. His patrons included Wolsey; but his attitude toward Henry's powerful minister 
gradually changed until in Speak Parrot and Why Come Ye Not To Court he virulently 
attacked the Cardinal. The result was that toward the end of his life the poet was obliged 
to take sanctuary at Westminster Abbey and stay there till his death in 1529. He had been 
rector of Diss and presumably resident there since 1503. Such was the mischievous and 
sportive nature of this misplaced parson that for long after his death he remained a stock 
figure in " merry tales " and plays. His chief works are : The Bowge of Court (before 1508), 
a vivid allegory of the corruption of courts (bouge = free board); Philip Sparrow (before 
1508); The Tunning of Elinour Rumming (c. 1510); Magnificence (c. 1516), an elaborate 
morality play; Colin Clout (1519), a satire directed against the clergy; A Goodly Gar- 
land of Laurel (c. 1520), a long vision-allegory of self-laudation; and Why Come Ye Not 
To Court? (1522), a violent satire on Wolsey. Many of his works are lost. Skelton is 
among the most important and original of English satirists : though still under Chaucer's 
influence (especially in The Garland of Laurel), he is one of the beginners of our modern 
poetry. 

The standard edition of his works is by Alexander Dyce, two vols., London, 1843. The 
present text is from the American edition of Dyce, Boston, 1806, with the spelling mod- 
ernized — that being an attention which in the editors' opinion Skelton's poems particularly 
deserve : only an occasional (sounded) -es or -e is retained, and old spellings that indi- 
cate a different pronunciation from tlie present. Recent articles on Skelton are A. Kolb- 
ing's Zur Characteristic Skeltons, and Friedrich Brie's Skelton Studien, in Englische Studien^ 

XXXVII, 1. 



STEPHEN HAWES 

Stephen Hawes (c. 1474-c. 1529) was a groom of the chamber to Henry VII, and a 
court poet. He was born in Suffolk, educated at Oxford; was travelled, accomplished, 
and knew most of L5'dgate by heart. By all odds his most important work is The Pastime 
of Pleasure, or The History of Graunde Amoure and La Bel Pucel, containing the Knowledge 
of the Seven Sciences and the Course of Man's Life in this World, written in 1506. For de- 
scriptions of his other poems, see the Cambridge History of English Literature, p. 226. The 
copious extracts of The Pastime given in our text are from T. Wright's edition for the 
Percy Society, London, 1845. In this gentle allegory the hero. Grand Amour, sets out in 
search of La Bel Pucel. In the tower of Doctrine he is instructed in Grammar, Logic, 
and Rhetoric — the trivium; and in Arithmetic, Music, Geometry, and Astronomy — the 
quadrivium. He finds La Bel Pucel and is accepted by her, but cannot marry until he 
undergoes successfully prodigious adventures with a three-headed giant, a seven-headed 



432 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

giant, and other monsters. He overcomes all these obstacles and marries the damsel. At 
last age comes upon him, with Policy and Avarice; then Death with Contrition and 
Conscience ; Remembrance writes his Epitaph, and Fame enrolls him among the great 
knights. The Pastime of Pleasure is a notable link between the old metrical romances 
and the old didactic allegories, on the one hand, and The Faerie Queeney on the other. 

POPULAR BALLADS 

A POPULAR or traditional ballad is a song that tells a story and that has been handed 
down among the folk for generations. Even when an individual author is presumed to 
have given the story its first form, his personal characteristics were obliterated in the 
long process of transmission, during which each singer modified the text at his will, until 
the product is truly that of the people. A text becomes fixed only when it is caught by 
print, and the life of the ballad, properly speaking, ends. The oldest so caught is Judafi, 
found in a manuscript of the thirteenth century; and one of the most recent is the Bitter 
Withy, discovered in 1868. We have a few ballads written down in the fifteenth century; 
but the bulk of those extant probably date in their present form from the seventeenth 
century; Bishop Percy's old manuscript, for example, was written about 1650. In spite of 
the praise of ballads by Sir Philip Sidney, Ben Jonson, and Addison, they were neglectc d 
by the literary world until well into the eighteenth century. An interest in them was one 
of the signs of the romantic movement, and the publication of Percy's Reliques of Ancient 
English Poetry in 1765, which consists largely of old ballads, marks an epoch in English 
literature. The enthusiastic collecting period was from about 1750 to 1850, Percy and Sir 
Walter Scott being the most notable of the collectors. 

Ballads are the simplest of poetry, the usual metre being a stanza of four roughly 
iambic lines, the unrhymed first and third of four beats, the rhyming second and fourth 
of three beats. It is common to have all four lines with four beats, or to have rhyming 
couplets; very few ballads have any greater metrical sophistication. The refrain is much 
employed; so is assonance and imperfect rhyme. There is much repetition of phrase and 
of situation; many of the epithets are conventional; the favorite numbers, three, seven, 
and nine are conspicuous; gold and silver and gems abound; supernatural phenomena 
are unhesitatingly accepted; the fairy world is very near, and beasts are not so different 
from men. Thus many archaic literary traits are preserved in the ballads, along with the 
emotions and the culture of a long past age. 

The standard collection of English ballads is that by the late F. J. Child in ten parts 
or five volumes — The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, Boston, 1882-98. All these 
ballads (but not all the versions of them) have been reprinted in one convenient volume 
with the same title by Helen Child Sargent and G. L. Kittredge, Boston, 1904. The text 
of our selections is that of Child. The best critical account is that of F. B. Gummere, 
The Popular Ballad, Boston, 1907. 

JOHN BARBOUR 

For the life of John Barbour, the first of the important Scottish poets, we have the 
same sort of information as about his English contemporary Chaucer. From state papers 
we glean that he was born at about 1320, and that he died in 1395; that he was arch- 
deacon of Aberdeen; that he frequently had safe-conduct to travel and study in England 
and France — as in 1357, for example, when Edward III permits him to conduct three 
scholars to Oxford; that in 1373 he was clerk of the audit and one of the auditors of the 
exchequer to Robert II of Scotland ; and that he received various pensions and perqui- 
sites from his royal master. 

As The Bruce was composed within fifty years of its hero's death, it is by no means 
devoid of historic authenticity, but in form it is a spirited romance, full of mediaeval and 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 433 

patriotic exaggeration, abounding in stirring narrative, and in sage reflections. The 13,615 
octosyllabic lines are divided into fourteen cantos. Tlie language is practically that of the 
north of England in the fourteenth century, and it is sometimes called " Early Scots " to 
distinguish it from the more sophisticated and more difficult " Middle Scots " of the 
writers after 1450. The best edition is that of W. W. Skeat for the E. E. T. S., 1870-89, 
and for the Scottish Text Society, 1893-95, from which latter our excerpts are taken. 

In addition to The Bruce, Barbour has had attributed to him on insufficient evidence 
the fragmentary JVoz/ Book in the northern dialect, a northern collection of Legends of 
the Saints, and, with perhaps better reason, the Buik of Alexander. Still further additions 
to his canon are proposed by G. Neilson in his John Barbour, London, 1900 (cf. Athenceum, 
27 Feb., 1897, and Scottish Antiquary, Jan., 1897). See also J. T. T. Brown, The Wallace 
and the Bruce Re-studied, Bonn, 1900; and W. A. Craigie, "John Barbour and Blind 
Harry as Literature," Scottish Review, xxii, 173. 

"BLIND HARRY" 

The authority usually cited for the date and the author of The Wallace is John Major 
(1470-1550), the Scottish historian, who says that such a work was composed in Major's 
infancy by a wandering minstrel, Henry, who was blind from his birth. There happen 
also to be entries of payments to a "Blin Harry" up to 1492 in the accounts of James IV. 
The poem, however, seems so much like the work of a well-read accomplished person, 
observant of nature and of affairs, that it is on the whole safer to consider the authorship 
doubtful. The unique MS., in the Advocates' Library in Edinburgh, is anonymous, as are 
also the early printed editions of 1508, 1570, 1594, 1601, 1611, etc. 

The 11,858 lines, in eleven books, are a largely apocryphal biography of the great 
Scottish hero who figured so prominently in history from 1296 to 1298, and was brutally 
executed in 1305, but the rest of whose career is almost totally unknown. The work 
is written in the comparatively new " heroic " couplet introduced by Chaucer, and for the 
most part in a straightforward, energetic, unvaried style; but not infrequently the author 
shows that he can use the artificial, " aureate " terms of Middle Scots. The poem has had 
an immense popularity in Scotland, and in the modern Scots version of William Hamil- 
ton (1722) had some influence on Burns. 

Our excerpts are from the edition of J. Moir for the Scottish Text Society, 1884-89. 
For the authorship see J. T. T. Brown's The Wallace and the Bruce Re-studied, Bonn, 
1900, and for the best discussion of the legendary and historical constituents of the poem, 
with their bearing on authorship, the MS. dissertation of F. L. Childs, Studies in The 
Wallace, in Harvard University Library. 

JAMES I OF SCOTS 

King James I of Scotland, the author of the King's Quair, was captured at sea by 
the English in 1406 — when he was about eleven — and kept prisoner until 1424. In that 
year he married an English lady, Joan Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset, was 
ransomed, and went home to reign. After an energetic rule of thirteen years, during which 
he sought especially to crush the power of the turbulent nobles, he was savagely murdered 
at Perth by the outlawed Sir Robert Graham and a band of Highlanders. 

The poem is an allegorical account of James's love affair. The metre is the seven-line 
stanza of Chaucer's Troilus, which, from James's use of it, is often called ** rime royal.'* 
In form it is a love-vision of the type best known by the Romance of the Rose, and it 
abounds in reflections of Chaucer's works, though Lydgate's Temple of Glass is the chief 
source. In fact, it is one of the most characteristic pieces of the Chaucerian school. The 
language is a somewhat artificial one, partly northern or Scots, and partly that of Chau- 
cer — Midland English. The date is between 1423 and his death in 1437. 



434 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

The standard edition is that of W. W. Skeat for the Scottish Text Soc, new ed., 1911, 
from which our text is taken. The question of the authorship is debated in J. T. T. Brown's 
The Authorship of the King's Quair, Glasgow, 1896; Jusserand's Jaques 1^« d' Ecosse fut-il 
poete, Paris, 1897; R. S. Rait's 2^he King's Quair and the new CnY/mm, 1898; A. Lawson's 
Kinge's Quair and the Quare of Jelusy, Edinburgh, 1910. For sources, see W. A. Neilson's 
Origins and Sources of the Court of Love, Boston, 1899, pp. 152, 232/. 



ROBERT HENRYSON 
Almost nothing is known of Henryson, one of the greatest of the Scottish Chaucerians. 




his Fables (1560). 

His Testament of Cresseid, written mostly in Chaucer's seven-line stanza, is, although a 
bit laden with mediaeval machinery at the start, one of the most powerful and affecting 
poems of the century, as his Rohyn and Makyn is one of the most graceful and pleasing 
of pastorals. The thirteen Fables are perhaps an even more significant accomplishment, 
for to this time-honored theme Henryson has brought so much vivacity and acute, sym- 
pathetic observation of men and beasts, that no fables have more flavor than his. Besides 
these Henryson wrote a dozen or more short poems. His works have been edited by D. 
Laiiig, Edinburgh, 1865; and by G. G. Smith for the Scottish Text Soc, 3 vols., Edin- 
burgh, 1906-8. Our selections are from the latter, in the Testament and the fable of The 
Two Mice following the Charteris text, in The Fox, the Wolf, and the Cadger that of the 
Harleian MS. 



WILLIAM DUNBAR 

Dunbar lived from about 1460 to 1520. He graduated bachelor of arts at St. An- 
drews in 1477, and master in 1479. He was probably of noble kin, but relatively humble 
station; and it is possible that he was for a time a wandering friar, though the biographi- 
cal details that have been drawn from his poem on " How Dunbar was desyrd to be ane 
Freir " should be accepted cautiously on account of the obviously farcical nature of the 
poem. Later he was a priest at court, accompanied certain expeditions on the king's 
business, and received certain pensions and grants of livery. A poet's position in the be- 
ginning of the sixteenth century is still like Chaucer's. 

Dunbar's two most important allegorical poems are those given in our text — The 
Thistle and the Rose, a parliament of beasts and birds in imitation of Chaucer's Parliament 
of Fowls, written in honor of the betrothal of James IV of Scotland and Margaret Tudor, 
daughter of Henry VII of England; and The Golden Targe, wherein the poet represents 
himself as trying in vain to ward off the arrows of love by the shield of reason. These 
elegant stanzas are written in the Middle Scots " aureate " style, and in conscious emula- 
tion of Chaucer, Gower, and Lydgate, characteristic praise of whom is to be found at the 
end of The Golden Targe. There is the same polish in several of the occasional pieces 
here given; but it is in the Seven Deadly Sins, the Dregy, and Kind Kittok that those 
qualities for which Dunbar is most famous appear — audacious fancy and rollicking 
humor, an astonishing virtuosity in every metre, and a cataclysmic wealth of strange 
words. 

Dunbar wrote in all about a hundred poems. The most useful editions are those of J. 
Schipper, Vienna, 1894, and of John Small and others in the Scottish Text Soc, 1884-93. 
Our texts are from the latter. Schipper has also written a biographical and critical study, 
William Dunbar, sein Leben und seine Gedichte, Berlin, 1884. 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 435 



GAVIN DOUGLAS 

Gavin Douglas (g. 1475-1522) was third son of the great Earl of Angus, Archibald 
Bell-the-Cat. He was educated at St. Andrews, entered the church, and after many vicis- 
situdes — for he was deep in the politics of a most turbulent period — became bishop of 
Dunkeld. All his literary work appears to have been done while he was Dean of St. 
Giles in Edinburgh, from 1501 to 1513. His ^neid (1513), " the first version of a great 
poet in any English dialect," is a translation of Virgil's twelve books, and the thirteenth 
of Mapheus Vegius, in vigorous Middle Scots. Peculiarly interesting are the original pro- 
logues to all the books, on the seasons or other subjects not at all connected with the 
poems. That to the twelfth book is perhaps the most overwhelming example of the 
" fresch anamalit termes celicall," the " sugurit," " aureate," " mellifliiate," coinages of 
these late Scottish mediaeval is ts, who at the same time begin to show ihe, influence of the 
Revival of Learning. King Hart is of course the human heart in the castle of the body, 
surrounded by his servitors, the five senses : it is a fairly well constructed allegory of 
over 900 lines. The Palace of Honour, Douglas's earliest work (1501), comprises 2166 
lines in nine-line stanzas. It is an over-elaborate dream-vision, stuffed with all manner of 
mediseval motives, where the poet finds Venus and Prince Honour in a mansion some- 
what like that in Chaucer's House of Fame. 

The only collected edition of Douglas's works is that by John Small, 4 vols., Edinburgh, 
1874, from which our text is taken. 



SIR DAVID LYNDESAY 

Sir David Lyndesay lived approximately from 1490 to 1555. He may have attended 
St. Andrews University; thereafter, for most of his life, he was a personal attendant, in 
various offices, upon James V of Scotland, finally in 1529 attaining knighthood and the 
office of chief herald, or Lyon Kmg of Arms. He was sent on several missions abroad, 
sat for a while as member of Parliament, and was a general master of ceremonies at the 
Scottish court. 

In The Dream (1134 lines) Lyndesay is seeking to edify his young prince by an alle- 
gorical vision somewhat in Chaucer's style, wherein after a visit to Hell, Purgatory, and 
the various spheres, his guide. Dame Remembrance, displays to him the native resources 
of his own Scotland; and when the author asks, " Why, then, is it so poor ? " she replies, 
"Because of misgovernment "; and anon follows the excerpt given in our text, where 
John the Common Wealth lays bare in trenchant fashion the evils under which Scotland 
suffered. The date of composition may be 1528, 

The Testament and Complaint of our Sovreign Lord^s Papyngo (1190 lines) is one of 
Lyndesay's most polished satires. The papyngo or parrot is blown from the top of a high 
tree which she ought never to have climbed, and fatally hurt. She laments her ambition, 
and sends one warning epistle to the king, and another to her brethren of the court, which 
latter ends with the first three stanzas of our extract. 

Kitty^s Confession is one of Lyndsay's best short satires, — reasonable, pungent, and ex- 
posing an obvious specific abuse. 

Squire Meldrum (1847 lines) is a little romance, which recalls in a way the old mediaeval 
romances, but which is brought quite up to date — being founded indeed upon contem- 
porary happenings. The Fifeshire hero-squire defeats the English champion in France, 
wins a sea-fight, also a lovely lady, takes a great castle, is at last dreadfully wounded 
and left for dead by brutal assailants, but recovers to live to a good old age and make 
the Testament which is given in our extract. 

The chief works of Lyndesay's not represented here are The Dialogue betwixt Experience 
and a Courtier (6333 lines), called also The Monarchy, an account of certain biblical 
stories and church doctrines, and A Pleasant Satire of The Three Estates (4652 lines), a 



436 BIOGRAPHICAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 

unique sort of morality play of great length and scope, a keen and amusing satire di- 
rected against the weaknesses of the nobles, the burgesses, and the clerics — indeed one 
of the most remarkable and entertaining works of the time, and the most vivacious and 
realistic of moralities. 

Lyndesay is the last of the Scottish Chaucerians: he cites reverently the master's name 
along with those of Lydgate and Gower, but he is touched by the spirit of the Reforma- 
tion and the Renaissance, and is as much a reformer as a poet. The principal edition of 
bis works is that by David Laing, 3 vols., P^diuburgh, 1879. That by F. Hall and J. A. H. 
Murray for the E. E. T. S., from which our texts are taken, is unfinished. 



INDEX 



INDEX 



Adam, his owne Scriveyn, Chaucers Wordes 
unto, 195. 

Adrian and Bardus, 92. 

iEneid, Translation of the, 406, Death of 
Priam, 401; Morning in May, 402; Pro- 
logue, 400. 

Albinus and Rosemund, 83. 

Babylon, 260. 

Badby's Heresy, 200. 

Bailiff's Daughter of Islington, The, 301. 

Balade to my Gracious Lord of York, 204. 

Ballad of Kind Kittok, The, 397. 

Ballads, 256-331; Bibliog., 432. 

Barbara Allan, 296. 

Barbour, John, 332-339; Biog. and Bibliog., 

432. 
Baron of Brackley, The, 321. 
Battle of Bannockburn, The, 334. 
Battle of Otterburn, The, 309. 
Bewick and Graham, 324. 
Bitter Withy, The, 331. 
•Blind Harry,' 340-346; Biog. and Bibliog., 

433. 
Bonnie Banks o Fordie, The, 260. 
Bonnie Earl of Murray, The, 318. 
Bonnie George Campbell, 323. 
Bonnie House o Airlie, The, 321. 
Bonny Barbara Allan, 296. 
Braes of Yarrow, The, 327. 
Bruce, The, 332. 
Bycorne and Chichevache, 220. 

Canterbury Tales, The, 95-155; Bibliog., 428. 

Captain Car, 316. 

Ceyx and Alceone, 90. 

Chaucer, Geoffrey, 95-198; Biog. and Bib- 
liog., 427; Hawes on, 249; Hoccleve on, 
202. 

Chaucers Wordes unto Adam, 195. 



Cherry-Tree Carol, The, 278. 

Che\'y Chase, 311. 

Child Waters, 284. 

Churl and the Bird, The, 208 

Cleopatra, Legend of,_190. 

Clerk Colvill, 273. 

Clerk Saunders, 289. 

Colin Clout, 241. 

Complaint, The, 205. 

Complaint of Cresseid, The, 372. 

Complaynt of the Commounweill of Scotland, 

The, 409. 
Compleynt of Chaucer to his Empty Purse, 

The, 198. 
Confessio Amantis, 79. 
Constantine and Silvester, 85. 
Cruel Brother, The, 258. 

Daemon Lover, The, 328. 

Dan Joos, Legend of, 227. 

Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins, The, 394. 

Death of Priam, The, 401. 

Death of Wallace, The, 345. 

Dietary, A, 221. 

Douglas, Gavin, 400-408; Biog. and Bibliog., 
435. 

Douglas Tragedy, The, 256. 

Dowy Houms o Yarrow, The, 327. 

Dream, The, 409. 

Dregy of Dunbar, The, 396. 

Dunbar, William, 386-399; Biog. and Bib- 
liog^ 434. 

Earl Brand, 256. 

Edom o Gordon, 316. 

Edward, 259. 

Eleanor Bumming, The Tunning of, 238. 

Envoy to Scogan, 197. 

Excusation of the Auctour, The, 255. 

Extravagance in Men's Dress, 199. 



440 



INDEX 



Fables, 375, 380. 

Fair Annie, 283. 

Fishing Adventure, The, 340. 

Florent, 79. 

Former Age, The, 195. 

Fox, the Wolf, and the Cadger. The, 375. 

Garland of Laurel, The, 247, 248. 

Garment of Good Ladies, The, 384. 

Gawain and the Green Knight, 19. 

Gawain Poet, The, Biog. and Bibliog., 425. 

Gay Goss-hawk, The, 299. 

Gentilesse, 197. 

Gest of Robyn Hode, The, 303 n. 

Get up and Bar the Door, 330. 

Glasgerion, 288. 

Godfrey Gobilyve, 253. 

Golden Targe, The, 386. 

Good Counsel, 366. 

Gower, John, 79-94; Biog. and Bibliog., 427; 

Hawes on, 249; Hoccleve on, 202. 
Great Silkie of Sule Skerry, The, 301. 

Handling Sin, 1-5. 

Hawes, Stephen, 249-255; Biog. and Bibliog., 
431; on Gower, Chaucer, and Lydgate, 249. 

Henryson, Robert, 367-385; Biog. and Bib- 
liog., 434. 

Hind Etin, 270. 

Hind Horn, 261. 

Hoccleve, Thomas, 199-207; Biog. and Bib- 
liog., 430; on Gower and Chaucer, 202. 

Hoccleve's Gay Youth, 206. 

Honour, 408. 

How Dunbar was Desired to be a Friar, 
398. 

How Scotland learned to love Liberty, 332. 

How the King read Ferumhras, 333. 

Hugh of Lincoln, 309. 

James I of Scots, 347-366; Biog. and Bibliog., 

433. 
Jew's Daughter, The, 309. 
Johnie Armstrong, 314. 
Johnie Cock, 302. 
Judas, 263. 



Kemp Owyne, 265. 

Kempion, 265. 

Kind Kittok, 397. 

King Estmere, 279. 

King Hart, 406. 

King Henry, 264. 

King John and the Bishop, 274. 

King Orfeo, 262. 

King's Quair, The, 347-366. 

Kinraont Willie, 818. 

Kitty's Confession, 419. 

Knighthood, Hawes on, 253. 

Knight's Tale, The, 106. 

La Male Regie, 206. 

Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight, 256. 

Lady Maisry, 286. 

Laily Worm and the Machrel of the Sea, The, 

266. 
Lak of Stedfastnesse, 197. 
Lament for the Makers, 392. 
Lament for Wallace's Capture, 345. 
Lamkin, 296. 
Langland, William, 48-78; Biog. and Bibliog., 

426. 
Lass of Roch Royal, The, 292. 
Legend of Cleopatra, The, 190. 
Legend of Dan Joos, The, 227. 
Legend of Good Women, The, 184; Bibliog., 

429. 
Legend of Lucretia, The, 191. 
Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan, 197. 
Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard, 294. 
Lord Bateman, 277 n. 
Lord Thomas and Fair Annet, 290. 
Love Gregor, 292. 
Lucretia, Legend of , 191. 
Lullaby, 248. 
Lydgate, John, 208-229; Biog. and Bibliog., 

430; Hawes on, 249. 
Lydgate' s Mumming at Hertford, 223. 
Lyndesay, Sir David, 409-422; Biog. and 

Bibliog., 435. 

Maid freed from the Gallows, The, 298. 
Male Regie, La, 206. 



J 



INDEX 



441 



Manning of Brunne, Robert, 1-5; Biog. and 


Sacrilegious Carollers, Tale of the, 3. 


Bibliog., 425. 


St. Stephen and Herod, 262. 


Marriage 0! Sir Gawain, The, 264 n. 


Scogan, Lenvoy a, 197. 


Mary Hamilton, 315. 


Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, 19; Bib- 


Merciles Beaute, 196. 


liog., 425. 


Minor Poems of Chaucer, 195. 


Sir Patrick Spence, 278. 


Morning in May, 402. 


Sir Thopas, 134. 


Mumming at Hertford, 223. 


Skelton, John, 230-248; Biog. and Bibliog., 


Music, Hawes on, 250. 


431. 




Somer the Chancellor, Roundel to, 204. 


Nonne Preestes Tale, The, 136. 


Squire Meldrum, Testament of, 421. 


New Troy, 216. 


Sweet William's Ghost, 293. 


New Year's Gift to the King, A, 399. 






Tale of Florent, The, 79. 


On Women's Horns, 222. 


Tale of the Sacrilegious Carollers, The, 3. 


Our Goodman, 328. 


Tale of the Witch and her Cow-Suckmg Bag, 




The, 2. 


Palace of Honour, The, 408. 


Tam Lin, 268. 


Pardoner's Tale, The, 145. 


Temple of Glas, The, 213. 


Parlement of Foules, The, 160; Bibliog., 


Testament and Complaint of our Sovereign 


429. 


Lord's Papingo, The, 411. 


Pastime of Pleasure, The, 249. 


Testament of Cresseid, The, 367. 


Pearl, The, 6; Bibliog., 425. 


Testament of Squire Meldrum, The, 421. 


Petition of the Gray Horse, Old Dunbar, The, 


Thistle and the Rose, The, 390. 


395. 


Thomas of Erceldoune, 267 n. 


Philip Sparrow, 230. 


Thomas Rymer and the Queen of Elfland, 


Piers the Ploughman, 48. 


267. 


Popular Ballads, 256-331; Bibliog., 432. 


Three Ravens, The, 264. 


Prioress's Tale, The, 131. 


To Mistress Isabell Pennell, 247. 


Prologue of the Canterbury Tales, 95. 


To Mistress Margaret Hussey, 248. 


Prologue of the Pardoner's Tale, 143. 


Tributes to Chaucer and Gower by Hoccleve, 


Prologue to the ^Eneid, 400. 


202. 


Prologue to the Legend of Good Women, 


Troilus and Criseyde, 169; Bibliog.. 429. 


184. 


Troy Book, The, 216. 


Prologue to Sir Thopas, 133. 


Truth, 196. 




Tunning of Eleanor Rumming, The, 238. 


Regement of Princes, The, 199. 


Twa Corbies, The, 264. 


Robin and Makin, 383. 


Twa Sisters, The, 257. 


Robin Hood and Guy Gisborne, 303. 


Two Mice, The, 380. 


Robin Hood's Death and Burial, 306. 




Robin Hood Rescuing the Widow's Three 
Sons, 307. 


Uplandish Mouse and the Burgess Mouse, 


Romaunt of the Rose, The, 156; Bibliog., 

429. 
Rosiphelee, 88. 


The, 380. 


Vision of William concerning Piers the 


Roundel to Somer the Chancellor, 204. 


Ploughman, The, 48; Bibliog., 426. 



442 INDEX 


Wallace, The, 3-iO; Bibliog., 433. 


Women's Horns, On, 222. 


Wallace and the English Queen, 341. 


Wyf of Bathes Tale, The, 151. 


Wee Wee Man, The, 268. 




Wife of Usher's Well, The, 294. 


York, Balade to my Gracious Lord of. 


Wife wrapt in Wether's Skin, The, 330. 


204. 


Witch and her Cow-Sucking Bag, The, 2. 


Young Akin, 270. 


Witchcraft and Dreams, 1. 


Young Bicham, 277. 


Woman's Superiority, 201. 


Young Waters, 298. 



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